. 


/  /.-^  MISSISSIPPI 


GIDEON'S    BAND 


BOOKS  BY  GEORGE  W.  CABLE 

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Ramsey 


[Page  SO] 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

A   TALE   OF   THE   MISSISSIPPI 


BY 

GEORGE    W.    CABLE 


ILLUSTRATED    BY 

F.  C.  YOHN 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

1914 


.-        ;    -OOPYEKSHT,  "IQ^,    BT 

CHARLES  SCRIBNEJI'S  SONS 


Published  September,  1914 


/ 


MAlKl 


TO 

EVA 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  THE  STEAMBOAT  LEVEE       ....  1 

II.  THE  "VOTARESS"      ......  5 

III.  CERTAIN  PASSENGERS 9 

IV.  THE  FIRST  Two  MILES  ...     .      .  13 
V.  RAMSEY  HAYLE    .......  17 

VI.  HAYLE'S  TWINS 25 

VII.  SUPPER      .........  31 

VIII.  QUESTIONS      .     .....     .     .     .  37 

IX.  SITTING  SILENT 43 

X.  PERIL  ..........  50 

XI.  FIRST  NIGHT-WATCH      .....  57 

XII.  HUGH  AND  THE  TWINS    .....  68 

XIII.  THE  SUPERABOUNDING  RAMSEY        .       .  75 

XIV.  THE  COMMITTEE  OF  SEVEN        ...  83 
XV.  MORNING  WATCH 90 

XVI.  PHYLLIS     .      .      .......  95 

vii 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XVII.  "  IT'S  A-HAPPMIN'  YIT— TO  WE  ALL"  106 

XVIII.  RAMSEY  WINS  A  POINT  OR  Two     .     .113 

XIX.  THIS  WAY  TO  WOMANHOOD       ...  122 

XX.  LADIES'  TABLE 131 

XXI.  RAMSEY  AND  THE  BISHOP     ....  138 

XXII.  BASILE  AND  WHAT  HE  SAW       ...  147 

XXIII.  A  STATE  OF  AFFAIRS 152 

XXIV.  A  SENATOR  ENLIGHTENED    ....  158 
XXV.  "PLEASE  ASSEMBLE" 164 

XXVI.  ALARM  AND  DISTRESS 173 

XXVII.  PILOTS'  EYES 180 

XXVIII.  WORDS  AND  THE"  WESTWOOD"      .     .  186 

XXIX.  STUDYING  THE  RIVER— TOGETHER       .  195 

XXX.  PHYLLIS  AGAIN 203 

XXXI.  THE  BURNING  BOAT 211 

XXXII.  A  PROPHET  IN  THE  WILDERNESS     .      .  222 

XXXIII.  TWINS  AND  TEXAS  TENDER       ...  229 

XXXIV.  THE  PEACEMAKERS 234 

XXXV.  UNSETTLED  WEATHER 246 

XXXVI.  CAPTAIN'S  ROOM 252 

XXXVII.  BASILE  USES  A  CANE 260 

viii 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTEB  PAGE 

XXXVIII.  THE  CANE  AGAIN 272 

XXXIX.  FORTITUDE 280 

XL.  RAMSEY  AT  THE  FOOTLIGHTS     .     .     .  289 

XLI.  QUITS 299 

XLII.  AGAINST  KIN        .     .     ,     .     ,     .     .  306 

XLIII.  WHICH  FROM  WHICH 313 

XLIV.  FORBEARANCE      .     ......     .319 

XLV.  APPLAUSE 327 

XLVI.  AFTER  THE  PLAY       .......  331 

XLVIL  INSOMNIA 337 

XLVIII.  "CALIFORNIA" 347 

XLIX.  KANGAROO  POINT 354 

L.  "DELTA  WTILL  Do"  .      .....  365 

LI.  LOVING-KINDNESS     .     .     .     .     .     .  374 

LII.  LOVE  RUNS  ROUGH  BUT  RUNS  ON       .  383 

LIII.  TRADING  FOR  PHYLLIS    .     .     .     .     .  393 

LIV.  "CAN'T!" .404 

LV.  LOVE  MAKES  A  CUT-OFF     ....  412 

LVI.  EIGHT  YEARS  AFTER 425 

LVII.  FAREWELL,  "VOTARESS"     ....  436 

LVIII.  'LINDY  LOWE       .......  443 

ix 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

LIX.  "CONCLUSIVELY" 446 

LX.  ONCE  MORE  HUGH  SINGS    ....  460 

LXI.  WANTED,  HAYLE'S  TWINS    ....  469 

LXII.  EUTHANASIA 478 

LXIII.  THE  CAPTAIN'S  CHAIR  493 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Ramsey Frontispiece 


"Stop!  .  .  .  Stop!  the  safest  place  for  you  on  this 
boat  now  is  right  where  you  are  standing — 
Phyllis" 258 


"  M y  heavenly  Father  wouldn't  'a'  had  to  call  me  in 

out  of  the  storm" 334 


For  I  believe  that  we  belong  to  each  other  from  the 
centre  of  our  souls,  by  a  fitness  plain  even  to  the 
eyes  of  your  brothers  " 420 


GIDEON'S  BAND  _ 

1  •'•,'*•  :•'••••.• 

THE  STEAMBOAT  LEVEE 

SATURDAY,  April,  1852.  There  was  a  fervor  in  the 
sky  as  of  an  August  noon,  although  the  clocks  of  the 
city  would  presently  strike  five. 

Dazzling  white  clouds,  about  to  show  the  earliest 
flush  of  the  sun's  decline,  beamed  down  upon  a  turbid 
river  harbor,  where  the  water  was  deep  so  close  inshore 
that  the  port's  unbroken  mile  of  steamboat  wharf 
nowhere  stretched  out  into  the  boiling  flood.  Instead 
it  merely  lined  the  shore,  the  steamers  packing  in 
bow  on  with  their  noses  to  it,  their  sterns  out  in  the 
stream,  their  fenders  chafing  each  other's  lower  guards. 

New  Orleans  was  very  proud  of  this  scene.  Very 
prompt  were  her  citizens,  such  as  had  travelled,  to  re 
mind  you  that  in  many  seaports  vast  warehouses  and 
roofed  docks  of  enormous  cost  thronged  out  so  greedily 
to  meet  incoming  craft  that  the  one  boat  which  you 
might  be  seeking  you  would  find  quite  hidden  among 
walls  and  roofs,  and  of  all  the  rest  of  the  harbor's  gen 
eral  fleet  you  could  see  little  or  nothing.  Not  so  on 

1 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

this  great  sun-swept,  wind-swept,  rain-swept,  unswept 
steamboat  levee.  You  might  come  up  out  of  any 
street  along  that  mile-wide  front,  and  if  there  were  a 
hundred  river  steamers  in  port  a  hundred  you  would 
behold  with  one  sweep  of  the  eye.  Overhead  was  only 
the  blue  dome,  in  full  view  almost  from  rim  to  rim; 
and  all  about,  amid  a  din  of  shouting,  whip-cracking, 
scolding,  and  laughing,  and  a  multitudinous  flutter  of 
Many-colored  foot-square  flags,  each  marking  its  special 
lot  of  goods,  were  swarms  of  men — white,  yellow,  and 
black — trucking,  tumbling,  rolling,  hand-barrowing,  and 
"toting"  on  heads  and  shoulders  a  countless  worth  of 
freight  in  bags,  barrels,  casks,  bales,  boxes,  and  bas 
kets.  Hundreds  of  mules  and  drays  came  and  went 
with  this  same  wealth,  and  out  beyond  all,  between 
wharf  and  open  river,  profiled  on  the  eastern  sky,  let 
ting  themselves  be  unloaded  and  reloaded,  stood  the 
compacted,  motionless,  elephantine  phalanx  of  the 
boats. 

The  flood  beneath  them  was  up  to  the  wharf's  floor 
ing,  yet  their  low,  light-draught  hulls,  with  the  freight 
decks  that  covered  them  doubled  in  carrying  room  by 
their  widely  overhanging  freight  guards,  were  hid  by 
the  wilderness  of  goods  on  shore.  Hid  also  were  their 
furnaces,  boilers,  and  engines  on  the  same  deck,  shar 
ing  it  with  the  cargo.  But  all  their  gay  upper  works, 
so  toplofty  and  frail,  showed  a  gleaming  white  front 
to  the  western  sun.  You  marked  each  one's  jack-staff, 
that  rose  mast  high  from  the  unseen  prow,  and  behind 
it  the  boiler  deck,  high  over  the  boilers.  Over  the 

2 


THE   STEAMBOAT  LEVEE 

boiler  deck  was  the  hurricane  roof,  above  that  the 
officers'  rooms,  called  the  "texas."  Above  the  texas 
was  the  pilot-house,  and  on  either  side,  well  forward 
of  the  pilot-house  and  towering  abreast  of  each  other 
and  above  all  else — higher  than  the  two  soaring  der 
rick  posts  at  the  two  forward  corners  of  the  passenger 
and  hurricane  decks,  higher  even  than  the  jack-staff's 
peak — stood  the  two  great  black  chimneys. 

And  what  a  populace  teemed  round  and  through  all! 
Here  was  the  Creole,  there  the  New  Englander.  Here 
were  men  of  oddest  sorts  from  the  Missouri,  Ohio, 
and  nearer  and  farther  rivers.  Here  were  the  Irish 
man,  the  German,  the  Congo,  Cuban,  Choctaw,  Texan, 
Sicilian;  the  Louisiana  sugar-planter,  the  Mississippi 
cotton-planter,  goat-bearded  raftsmen  from  the  swamps 
of  Arkansas,  flatboatmen  from  the  mountains  of  Ten 
nessee  and  Kentucky;  the  horse  trader,  the  slave- 
driver,  the  filibuster,  the  Indian  fighter,  the  circus 
rider,  the  circuit-rider,  and  men  bound  for  the  gold- 
fields  of  California. 

More  than  half  the  boats,  this  April  afternoon,  flew 
from  the  jack-staff  of  each,  to  signify  that  it  was  her 
day  to  leave,  a  streaming  burgee  bearing  her  name.  A 
big-lettered  strip  of  canvas  drawn  along  the  front 
guards  of  her  hurricane-deck  told  for  what  port  she 
was  "  up,"  and  the  growing  smoke  that  swelled  from  her 
chimneys  showed  that  five  was  her  time  to  back  out. 

In  the  midst  of  the  scene,  opposite  the  head  of  Canal 
Street — the  streets  that  run  to  the  New  Orleans  levee 
run  up-hill  and  get  there  head  first — lay  a  boat  which 

3 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

specially  belongs  to  this  narrative.  A  pictorial  poster, 
down  in  every  cafe  and  hotel  rotunda  of  the  town, 
called  her  "large,  new,  and  elegant/'  and  such  she  was 
in  fair  comparison  with  all  the  craft  on  all  the  sixteen 
thousand  navigable  miles  of  the  vast  river  and  its 
tributaries.  Her  goal  was  Louisville,  more  than  thir 
teen  hundred  miles  away.  Her  steam  was  up,  a  velvet- 
black  pitch-pine  smoke  billowed  from  her  chimneys, 
and  her  red-and-white  burgee,  gleaming  upon  it,  named 
her  the  Votaress. 


THE  "VOTARESS" 

HER  first  up-river  trip!  The  crowd  waiting  on  the 
wharf's  apron  to  see  her  go  was  larger  and  included 
better  types  of  the  people  than  usual,  for  the  Vota 
ress  was  the  latest  of  the  Courteney  fleet,  hence  a  rival 
of  the  Hayle  boats,  the  most  interesting  fact  that  could 
be  stated  of  anything  afloat  on  Western  waters. 

So  young  was  she,  this  Votaress,  so  bridally  fresh 
from  her  Indiana  and  Kentucky  shipyards,  that  the 
big  new  bell  in  the  mid-front  of  her  hurricane  roof 
shone  in  the  low  sunlight  like  a  wedding  jewel.  Its 
parting  strokes  had  sounded  once  but  would  sound 
twice  again  before  she  could  cast  off.  Both  pilots  were 
in  the  lofty  pilot-house,  down  from  the  breast-board 
of  which  a  light  line  ran  forward  to  the  bell's  tongue, 
but  neither  pilot  touched  the  line  or  the  helm.  For 
the  captain's  use  another  cord  from  the  bell  hung  over 
the  hurricane  deck's  front  and  down  to  the  boiler  deck 
rail,  but  neither  up  there  on  the  boiler  deck  nor  any 
where  near  the  bell  on  the  roof  above  it  was  any  cap 
tain  to  be  seen. 

At  the  front  angle  of  the  roof's  larboard  rail  a  youth, 
quite  alone,  leaned  against  one  of  the  tall  derrick  posts 

5 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

to  get  its  shade.  He  was  too  short,  square,  and  unani- 
mated  to  draw  much  attention,  although  with  a  faint 
unconscious  frown  between  widely  parted  brows  his 
quiet  eyes  fell  intently  upon  every  detail  of  the  lively 
scene  below. 

The  whole  great  landing  lay  beneath  his  glance,  a 
vivid  exposition  of  the  vast,  half-tamed  valley's  bounty, 
spoils,  and  promise;  of  its  motley  human  life,  scarcely 
yet  to  be  called  society,  so  lately  and  rudely  trans 
planted  from  overseas ;  so  bareboned,  so  valiantly  pre 
served,  so  young  yet  already  so  titanic;  so  self-reliant, 
opinionated,  and  uncouth;  so  strenuous  and  material 
istic  in  mind;  so  inflammable  in  emotions;  so  grotesque 
in  its  virtues;  so  violent  in  its  excesses;  so  compla 
cently  oblivious  of  all  the  higher  values  of  wealth;  so 
giddied  with  the  new  wine  of  liberty  and  crude  abun 
dance;  so  open  of  speech,  of  heart,  of  home,  and  so 
blithely  disdainful  of  a  hundred  risks  of  life,  health, 
and  property.  And  all  this  the  young  observer's 
glance  took  in  with  maybe  more  realization  of  it  than 
might  be  looked  for  in  one  not  yet  twenty-one.  Yet 
his  fuller  attention  was  for  matters  nearer  and  of  much 
narrower  compass. 

He  saw  the  last  bit  of  small  freight  come  aboard  and 
the  last  belated  bill-lading  clerk  and  ejected  peddler  go 
ashore.  He  noted  by  each  mooring-post  the  black 
longshoreman  waiting  to  cast  off  a  hawser.  He  re 
marked  each  newcomer  who  idly  joined  the  onlooking 
throng.  Especially  he  observed  each  cab  or  carriage 
that  hurried  up  to  the  wharf's  front.  He  studied  each 

6 


THE   "  VOTARESS  " 

of  the  alighting  occupants  as  they  yielded  their  effects 
to  the  antic,  white-jacketed  mulatto  cabin-boys,  be 
hind  whom  they  crossed  the  ponderous  unrailed  stage 
and  vanished  on  their  up-stairs  way  to  the  boiler  deck, 
the  cabin,  and  their  staterooms.  Had  his  mild  scru- 
tinizings  been  a  paid  service,  they  could  hardly  have 
been  more  thorough. 

By  and  by  two  or  three  things  occurred  in  the  same 
moment.  A  number  of  boats  above  Canal  Street  and 
several  of  lesser  fame  below  sounded  their  third  bell, 
cast  off,  and  backed  out  into  the  stream.  The  many 
pillars  of  smoke  widened  across  the  heavens  into  one 
unrifted  cloud  with  the  sunbeams  illumining  its  earth 
ward  side.  Now  it  overhung  the  busy  landing  and 
now,  at  the  river's  first  bend,  it  filled  the  tops  of  the 
dark  mass  of  spars  and  cordage  that  densely  lined  the 
long  curve  of  the  harbor's  up-town  shipping. 

At  the  same  time,  while  the  foremost  boats  were  still 
in  sight,  the  two  pilots  in  the  pilot-house  of  the  linger 
ing  Votaress  quietly  took  stand  at  right  and  left  of  the 
wheel  with  their  eyes  on  a  distant  vehicle,  a  private 
carriage.  It  came  swiftly  out  of  Common  Street  and 
across  the  broad  shell-paved  levee.  As  quietly  as 
they,  the  youth  at  the  derrick  post  regarded  it,  and 
presently,  looking  back  and  up,  he  gave  them  a  slight, 
gratified  nod.  Through  the  lines  of  onlookers  the 
carriage  swept  close  up  to  the  stage  and  let  down 
two  aristocratic-looking  men.  The  taller  was  full  fifty 
years  of  age,  the  other  as  much  as  seventy-five,  but 
both  were  hale  and  commanding. 

7 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

As  they  started  aboard  the  younger  glanced  up 
brightly  to  the  unsmiling  youth  at  the  roof's  rail  and 
then  threw  a  gesture,  above  and  beyond  him,  to  the 
pilot-house.  One  of  the  pilots  promptly  sounded  the 
bell.  Down  on  the  forecastle  a  dozen  deck-hands,  or 
dered  by  a  burly  mate,  leaped  to  the  stage  and  began, 
with  half  as  many  others  who  ran  ashore  on  it,  to  heave 
it  aboard.  But  a  sharp  "avast"  stopped  them,  and 
four  or  five  cabin-boys  gambolled  out  on  it  ashore.  A 
smart  hack  came  whirling  up  in  its  own  white  shell 
dust,  and  a  fledgling  dandy  of  seventeen  sprang  down 
from  the  seat  of  his  choice  by  the  driver  before  the 
vehicle  could  stop  or  the  white  jackets  strip  it  of  its 
baggage. 


Ill 

CERTAIN  PASSENGERS 

FROM  his  dizzy  outlook  the  older  youth  dropped  his 
calm  scrutiny  upon  the  inner  occupants  as  they  alighted 
and  followed  the  boy  on  board.  First  came  a  red- 
ringleted,  fifteen-year-old  sister,  fairly  good-looking, 
almost  too  free  of  glance,  and — to  her  high-perched 
critic — urgently  eligible  to  longer  skirts.  Behind  her 
appeared  an  old,  very  black  nurse  in  very  blue 
calico  and  very  white  turban  and  bosom  kerchief;  and 
lastly  a  mother — of  many  children,  one  would  have 
said — still  perfect  in  complexion,  gracefully  rounded, 
and  beautiful. 

This  was  the  first  time  he  on  the  hurricane  deck  had 
ever  seen  them,  but  he  knew  at  once  who  they  were  and 
looked  the  closer  on  that  account.  The  self-oblivious 
elation  with  which  the  slim  lass  gave  her  eyes  and  mind 
to  everything  except  her  own  footing  caused  him  to 
keep  his  chief  watch  on  her.  He  even  beckoned  a  black 
deck  hand  to  do  the  same.  Wherever  her  glance  went 
her  gay  interest  went  with  it,  either  in  a  soft  solilo 
quizing  laugh  or  in  some  demonstration  less  definite 
though  more  radiant;  some  sign  of  delight  from  her 
lips,  her  eyes,  her  brow,  her  springing  step,  dancing 
curls,  or  supple  arms.  The  youth  on  the  roof's  edge 

9 


GIDEON'S   BAND 

deepened  his  frown.  At  a  point  on  the  stage  where  its 
sheer,  naked  sides  spanned  the  narrow  chasm  through 
which  the  waters  swept  between  boat  and  wharf,  her 
feet  strayed  too  near  one  perilous  edge,  and  just  then 
her  eyes  went  up  to  him.  The  two  glances  had  barely 
met  when  she  tripped  and  staggered.  With  a  dozen 
others  aboard  and  ashore,  he  gave  a  start.  She  sent 
him  a  look  of  terror,  then  turned  from  deadly  pale  to 
rosy  red  and  gasped  her  thanks  to  the  smiling  deck 
hand,  whose  clutch  had  saved  her  life.  The  next  in 
stant  she  was  laughing  elatedly  to  her  horrified  nurse, 
and  so  disappeared  with  her  kindred  on  the  lower  deck 
and  front  stairs. 

The  mellow  boom  of  the  third  and  last  parting  signal 
diverted  the  general  mind,  and  a  glance  behind  him 
showed  the  youth  the  close  and  welcome  presence  of 
that  superior-looking  man  in  answer  to  whose  gesture 
the  pilot  had  tolled  the  earlier  bell.  But  this  person 
was  closely  preoccupied.  Now  his  capable  glance  ran 
aft  along  every  marginal  line  of  the  boat,  now  it  dropped 
below  to  where  the  big  stage  lay  drawn  in  athwart  the 
forward  deck  from  guard  to  guard.  Now  he  gave 
short,  quiet  orders  to  wharf  and  forecastle,  now  a  sin 
gle  word  or  two  to  the  pilot-house.  Far  below,  the 
engine  bells  jingled.  The  bowline  was  in.  A  yeast 
of  waters  ran  forward  from  the  backing  wheels,  the 
breast  line  slacked  away  in  fierce  jerks,  and  the  Votaress 
began  to  depart. 

Meantime  there  was  an  odd  stir  on  shore.  A  cab 
whirled  up  furiously  and  two  more  youths,  shapely, 

10 


CERTAIN  PASSENGERS 

handsome,  and  fashionable,  twins  beyond  cavil  and 
noticeably  older  than  their  twenty  years,  visibly  rich 
in  fine  qualities  but  as  visibly  reckless  as  to  what  they 
did  with  them,  sprang  out,  flushed  and  imperious,  to 
wave  the  Votaress.  One  of  her  guards  was  still  rubbing 
along  the  steamer  beside  her,  but  before  the  pair  could 
dash  aboard  this  other  boat  and  half  across  her  deck, 
a  gap  had  opened,  impossible  to  leap.  They  halted  in 
rage  as  the  more  compact  youth  on  the  moving  steam 
er's  roof,  catching  their  attention,  pointed  a  good  two 
miles  up  the  river  front.  Yet  what  he  said  they  would 
not  have  known  had  not  her  mate  repeated  from  the 
forecastle : 

"Post  forty-six!  Drive  up  thah!  We  stop  thah  fo' 
a  load  of  emigrants!" 

They  fled  back  to  the  cab.  Aboard  the  receding  boat 
the  ruthless  engine  bells  jingled  on;  the  broad  water 
side  and  the  city  behind  it  seemed,  from  her  decks,  to 
draw  away  into  the  western  clouds,  and  the  yellow 
river  spread  wide  its  shores  in  welcome  to  her  swinging 
form.  Now  its  mighty  current  seemed  to  quicken  and 
quicken  as  she  gradually  overcame  her  down-stream 
drift,  the  ship-lined  shores  ceased  to  creep  up-stream 
— began  to  creep  down — and  her  black  crew,  standing 
close  about  the  capstan,  broke  majestically  into  song: 

"Oh,  rock  me,  Julie,  rock  me." 

From  the  forecastle  her  swivel  pealed,  her  burgee 
ran  down  the  jack-staff,  a  soft,  continuous  tremor  set 

11 


GIDEON'S   BAND 

in  among  all  her  parts,  her  scape-pipes  ceased  their 
alternating  roars,  her  engines  breathed  quietly  through 
her  vast  funnels,  the  flood  spurted  at  her  cutwater, 
white  torrents  leaped  and  chased  each  other  from  her 
fluttering  wheels,  her  own  breeze  fanned  every  brow, 
and  the  Votaress  was  under  way. 


12 


IV 
THE  FIRST  TWO  MILES 

THE  youth  whom  we  have  called  short,  square,  and 
so  on  crossed  to  the  starboard  derrick  post.  Several 
passengers  had  come  up  to  the  roof,  and  one  who,  he 
noticed,  seemed,  by  the  many  kind  glances  cast  upon 
her,  to  be  already  winning  favor,  was  the  tallish  lass 
with  the  red  curls. 

The  nurse  was  still  at  her  back.  She  drew  close  up 
beside  him  and  stood  in  the  wind  that  ruffled  her  hat 
and  pressed  her  draperies  against  her  form.  Her 
servant  betrayed  a  faint  restiveness  to  be  so  near  him, 
but  the  girl,  watching  the  steamer's  watery  path  as  it 
seemed  of  its  own  volition  to  glide  under  the  boat's 
swift  tread,  ignored  him  as  completely  as  if  he  were  a 
part  of  the  woodwork.  The  very  good-looking  man 
who  was  "taking  out"  the  boat  returned  from  a  short 
tour  of  the  deck  and  halted  by  the  great  bell  over 
the  foremost  skylights;  but  soon  he  moved  away  again 
in  mild  preoccupation.  The  maiden's  frank  scrutiny 
followed  him  a  step  or  two  and  then  turned  squarely 
to  the  youth.  Her  attendant  stirred  uncomfortably 
and  breathed  some  inarticulate  protest,  but  in  a  tone 
of  faultless  composure  the  girl  spoke  out  : 

13 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Is  that  the  captain  yonder? " 

"No,"  he  said,  equally  composed,  though  busy  think 
ing  that  but  for  his  eye  she  would  at  this  moment  be 
lying,  in  all  these  dainty  draperies,  as  deep  beneath  the 
boiling  flood  as  she  now  stood  above  it.  "That's  not 
the  captain." 

"Then  why  is  he  running  the  boat?" 

"He  owns  her." 

"Oh!"  The  girl's  soft  laugh  was  at  herself.  Pres 
ently — "Where's  her  captain?" 

"Ashore,  in  the  hospital.'' 

"What's  he  got?" 

"Missy!"  murmured  the  dark  woman  beseechingly. 

But  missy  gave  her  no  heed.  "Got  cholera?"  she 
ventured,  "the  Asiatic  cholera?" 

"No,  a  broken  leg." 

"Oh!    Is  that  all  he's  got?" 

"  No,  he  has  another,  not  broken."  The  speaker  was 
so  solemn  that,  with  mirth  in  every  drop  of  her  blood, 
the  inquirer  contrived  to  be  grave,  herself. 

"How'd  he  get  it — I  mean  get  it  broken?" 

"  He  was  superintending — 

"And  fell?    When'dhefall?" 

"This  afternoon,  about " 

"Where'd  it  happen?" 

"  Down  on  the  lower  deck  as  he " 

"Which  is  the  lower  deck?" 

"The  deck  you  came  aboard  on." 

"They  told  me  that  was  the  freight  deck!" 

"It  is." 

14 


THE   FIRST  TWO  MILES 

"Then,  why — ?"     She  ceased,  pondered,  and  spoke 
again:  "Is  there  any  deck  lower  than  the  lower  deck?" 

"None." 

She  mused  once  more:  "Why — that's  strange." 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "strange,  but  true." 

"Then  how  could  the  captain  fall—  Again  she 

ceased  and  yet  again  pondered:  "Are  the  boilers — on 
the  boiler  deck?" 

"No,  the  boiler  deck  is  just  over  the  boilers." 

"Then  why  do  they—       Once  more  she  pondered. 

"The  boilers,"  said  the  youth,  "are  down  on  the 
freight  deck." 

The  questioner  brightened.  "  Do  they  ever  put  any 
freight  on  the  boiler  deck?"  she  asked. 

Before  he  could  say  yes,  and  without  the  slightest 
warning,  a  laugh  burst  from  her  tightened  lips.  He 
could  not  have  called  it  unmusical  and  did  not  resent 
it,  although  he  did  regard  it  as  without  the  slenderest 
excuse.  Her  eyes  and  brow,  still  confronting  his  in  a 
distress  of  mirth,  confessed  the  whim's  forlorn  sense 
lessness,  while  his  face  returned  not  the  smallest  sign 
of  an  emotion.  As  the  moment  lengthened,  the  trans 
port,  so  far  from  passing,  spread  through  all  her  lithe 
form.  Suddenly  she  turned  aside,  drew  herself  up, 
faced  him  again,  and  began  to  inquire,  "Do  they 
ever —  '  but  broke  down  once  more,  fell  upon  the  old 
woman's  shoulder  with  a  silvery  tinkle,  shook,  hung 
limp,  threw  one  foot  behind  her,  and  tapped  the  deck 
with  her  toe.  A  married  couple  drifting  by,  obviously 
players  and  of  the  best  of  their  sort,  enjoyed  the  picture. 

15 


GIDEON'S   BAND 

"Why,  missy!"  the  nurse  softly  pleaded,  "yo* 
plumb  disgracin'  yo'seff !  Stop !  Stop ! " 

"I  can't!"  whined  the  girl,  between  her  paroxysms, 
"till  he  stops  looking  like  that."  But  as  the  youth  was 
merely  looking  like  himself  he  saw  no  reason  why  he 
should  stop. 

To  avoid  the  current  the  steamer  suddenly  began  to 
run  so  close  beside  the  moored  ships  that  the  continu 
ous  echo  of  all  her  sounds — the  flutter  of  her  great 
wheels,  the  seething  of  waters,  the  varied  activities  of 
her  lower  deck — came  back  and  up  to  the  three  voy 
agers  with  a  nearness  and  minuteness  that  startled 
the  girl  and  drew  her  glance;  but  just  as  her  dancing 
eyes  returned  reproachfully  to  the  youth  the  big  bell 
at  her  back  pealed  its  signal  for  landing  and  she  sprang 
almost  off  her  feet,  cast  herself  into  the  nurse's  bosom, 
and  laughed  more  inexcusably  than  ever. 

The  woman  put  an  arm  about  her  shoulder  and  drew 
her  a  few  steps  back  along  the  rail  to  where  four  or 
five  others  were  gathered.  The  young  man  gave  all 
his  attention  downward  across  the  starboard  bow. 
The  engine  bells  jingled  far  below,  the  wheels  stopped, 
the  giant  chimneys  ceased  their  majestic  breathing, 
and  the  boat  came  slowly  abreast  of  a  ship  standing 
high  out  of  the  water. 


16 


V 

RAMSEY  HAYLE 

THE  flag  of  Holland  floated  aft  of  a  deck  crowded 
with  a  sun-tanned  and  oddly  clad  multitude.  The 
Dutch  sailors  lowered  their  fenders  between  the  ship's 
side  and  the  boat's  guards,  lines  were  made  fast,  a 
light  stage  was  run  down  from  the  ship's  upper  deck 
to  the  boat's  forecastle,  and  in  single  file,  laden  with 
their  household  goods,  the  silent  aliens  were  hurried 
aboard  the  Votaress  and  to  their  steerage  quarters,  out 
of  sight  between  and  behind  her  engines. 

Up  on  the  boiler  and  hurricane  decks  her  earlier 
passengers  found,  according  to  their  various  moods 
and  capacities,  much  entertainment  in  the  scene.  The 
girl  with  the  nurse  laughed  often,  of  course.  Yet  her 
laugh  bore  a  certain  note  of  sympathy  and  apprecia 
tion  which  harmonized  out  of  it  all  quality  that  might 
have  hurt  or  abashed  the  most  diffident  exile.  Child 
like  as  she  was,  it  was  plain  she  did  not  wholly  fail 
to  see  into  the  matter's  pathetic  depths. 

The  youth  at  the  derrick  post,  scrutinizing  each  im 
migrant  that  passed  under  his  eye,  could  hear  at  his 
back  a  refined  voice  making  kind  replies  to  her  many 
questions.  He  knew  it  as  belonging  to  the  older  of  the 

17 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

two  men  for  whose  coming  aboard  the  Votaress  had 
delayed  her  start.  Between  the  girl's  whimsical  que 
ries  he  heard  him  indulgently  explain  that  the  Dutch 
ensign's  red,  white,  and  blue  were  no  theft  from  us 
Americans  and  that  at  various  periods  he  had  lived 
in  four  or  five  great  cities  under  those  three  colors  as 
flown  and  loved  by  four  great  nations. 

Amazing!  She  could  not  query  fast  enough.  "First 
city?" 

First  in  London,  where  he  had  been  born  and  reared. 

"And  then?" 

Then  in  Amsterdam,  where  he  had  been  married. 

"And  then?" 

Then  for  ten  years  in  Philadelphia. 

"And  then?" 

Why,  then,  for  forty  years  more,  down  to  that  pres 
ent  1852,  in  New  Orleans,  while  nevertheless,  save  for 
the  last  ten,  he  had  sojourned  much  abroad  in  many 
ports  and  capitals,  but  mainly  in  Paris. 

The  girl's  note  of  mirth  softly  persisted,  irrepressible 
but  self-oblivious,  a  mere  accent  of  her  volatile  emo 
tions,  most  frequent  among  which  was  a  delighted  won 
der  in  looking  on  the  first  man  of  foreign  travel,  first 
world -citizen,  with  whom  she  had  ever  awarely  come 
face  to  face.  So  guessed  the  youth,  well  pleased. 

Presently,  as  if  she  too  had  guessed  something,  she 
asked  if  the  boat's  master  was  not  this  man's  son. 

He  now  running  it?     Yes,  he  was. 

"And  was  he,  too,  born  in  England? — or  in  Hol 
land?" 

18 


RAMSEY  HAYLE 

In  Philadelphia,  1803. 

"And  did  he,  too,  marry  a — Dutch — wife?" 

"No,  a  young  lady  of  Philadelphia,  in  1832;  an 
American." 

"Did  you  ever  see  Andrew  Jackson?" 

"Yes,  I  knew  him." 

"Were  you  in  the  battle  of  New  Orleans?" 

"Yes,  I  commanded  a  battery." 

"Did  you  know  anybody  else  besides  Jackson? 
Who  else?" 

"Oh,  I  knew  them  all;  Claiborne,  Livingston,  Dun 
can,  Touro,  Sheppard,  Grimes,  the  two  Lafittes,  Dom 
inique  You,  Coffee,  Villere,  Roosevelt ' 

"  I  know  about  Roosevelt;  he  brought  the  first  steam 
boat  down  the  Mississippi.  My  grandfather  knew  him. 
Did  you  ever  have  any  grandchildren?" 

Yes,  he  had  had  several,  but  before  she  could  inquire 
what  had  become  of  them  the  attention  of  every  one 
was  arrested  by  the  second  approach  of  the  cab  bear 
ing  the  two  hotspurs  who  had  missed  the  boat  at 
Canal  Street.  All  the  way  up  from  there  their  labored 
gallop,  by  turns  hid,  seen,  and  hid  again,  had  amused 
many  of  her  passengers,  and  now,  as  the  pair  shouldered 
their  angry  way  across  the  ship's  crowded  deck  and 
down  the  steep  gang-plank,  a  general  laugh  from  the 
boat's  upper  rails  galled  them  none  the  less  for  being 
congratulatory.  So  handsome  and  dangerous-looking 
that  the  laugh  died,  they  halted  midway  of  the  nar 
row  incline,  impeding  the  stream  of  immigrants  at 
their  heels,  and  sent  up  a  fierce  stare  in  response  to 

19 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

the  propitiatory  smiles  of  the  boat's  commander  and 
the  youth  standing  near  him.  Only  one  of  the  twins 
spoke,  but  the  eyes  of  his  brother  vindictively  widened 
till  they  gleamed  a  flaming  concurrence  in  his  fellow's 
high-keyed,  oath-bound  threat: 

"We'll  get  even  with  you  for  this,  Captain  John 
Courteney.  We  warn  you  and  all  your  tribe." 

The  old  nurse  on  the  roof,  to  whose  arm  her  slim 
charge  was  clinging  with  both  hands,  moaned  audibly: 
"  Oh,  Lawd,  Mahs'  Julian !  Mahs'  Lucian  1 " 

The  girl  laughed,  laughed  so  merrily  and  convin 
cingly — as  if  to  laugh  was  the  one  reasonable  thing  to  do 
— that  most  of  the  passengers  did  likewise.  Even  the 
grave  youth  whose  back  was  to  her  inwardly  granted 
that  the  lamentable  habit  could  make  itself  useful  in 
an  awkward  juncture.  While  he  so  thought,  he  ob 
served  the  unruffled  owner  of  the  Votaress  motion  to 
the  chagrined  young  men  to  clear  the  way  by  coming 
aboard,  and  as  they  haughtily  did  so  he  heard  the 
commander's  father  say  to  the  girl  still  at  his  side: 

"I  believe  those  are  your  brothers?" 

"Yes,"  she  responded,  for  once  without  mirth,  "my 
brothers,"  and  the  peace-loving  but  conscientious  nurse 
added  with  a  modest  pretence  of  pure  soliloquy: 

"One  dess  as  hahmless  as  de  yetheh." 

The  bell  boomed.  The  last  transatlantic  stranger 
shuffled  aboard,  wan  and  feeble.  Now  to  one  wheel, 
now  to  the  other,  the  pilot  jingled  to  back  away,  then 
to  stop,  then  to  go  ahead,  then  to  both  for  full  speed, 
and  once  more  the  beautiful  craft  moved  majestically 

20 


RAMSEY  HAYLE 

up  the  river.  Her  course  shifted  from  south  to  west, 
the  shores  for  a  time  widened  apart,  the  low-roofed 
city  swung  and  sank  away  backward,  groves  of  orange 
and  magnolia  grew  plainer  to  the  eye  than  suburban 
streets,  and  the  course  changed  again,  from  west  to 
north.  Soon  on  the  right,  behind  a  high  levee  and 
backed  by  a  sombre  swamp  forest,  appeared  the  live- 
oaks  and  gardens  of  Carrollton,  and  presently  on  the 
left  came  Nine-mile  Point  and  another  bend  of  the 
river  westward.  As  the  boat's  prow  turned,  the  wa 
ters,  from  shore  to  shore,  reflected  the  low  sun  so  daz- 
zlingly  that  nearly  all  the  passengers  on  the  roof  moved 
aft,  whence,  ravished  by  the  ascending  odors  of  sup 
per,  they  went  below. 

But  the  handsome  old  man,  the  sedate  youth,  the 
girl,  the  nurse,  remained.  Captain  Courteney  came 
along  the  deck  and  crossed  toward  the  four,  eyed  from 
head  to  foot  by  the  girl  even  after  he  had  stopped  near 
her.  But  her  gaze  drew  no  glance  from  him. 

"Well,  Hugh,"  he  said. 

The  youth  turned  with  a  smile  that  bettered  ev 
ery  meaning  in  his  too  passive  countenance:  "Well, 
father?" 

"Oh!"  breathed  the  startled  girl.  She  looked  ea 
gerly  into  the  three  male  faces,  beamed  round  upon 
her  dark  attendant,  and  then  looked  again  at  grand 
father,  father,  and  son.  "Why,  of  course!"  she  softly 
laughed. 

"John,"  said  the  older  man,  "this  young  lady  is  a 
daughter  of  Gideon  Hayle." 

21 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"I  thought  as  much."  The  benign  captain  lifted 
his  hat  and  accepted  and  dropped  again  the  dainty 
hand  proffered  him  with  childish  readiness.  "Then 
you're  the  youngest  of  seven  children." 

Her  reply  was  a  gay  nod.  Presently,  with  a  merry 
glint  between  her  long  lashes,  she  said:  "I'm  Ramsey." 

The  captain's  smile  grew:  "That  must  be  great  fun." 

The  girl  looked  from  one  to  another,  puzzled. 

"  Why,  just  to  be  Ramsey,"  he  explained.  "  Isn't  it?  " 

She  gave  him  a  wary,  sidewise  glance  and  looked 
out  over  the  water.  "  My  three  married  sisters  all  live 
near  this  river,"  she  musingly  said;  "one  in  Louisiana, 
two  in  Mississippi."  Her  sidelong  glance  repeated 
itself:  "I  know  who  it  would  be  fun  to  be — for  me — or 
for  anybody!"  Her  eyes  widened  as  her  brother's  had 
done,  though  in  an  amiable,  elated  way. 

"Your  father?"  asked  the  captain. 

She  all  but  danced:  "How'd  you  know?" 

"I  saw  him — in  your  eyes,"  was  the  placid  reply. 
"Your  father  and  I,  and  your  grandfather  Hayle,  and 
this  gentleman  here " 

"Ya-ass,  ya-ass!"  drawled  the  nurse  in  worshipping 
reminiscence,  and  Ramsey  laughed  to  Hugh,  and  all 
the  while  the  captain  persisted:  "We've  built  and 
owned  rival  boats " 

"Fawty  yeah'!"  murmured  the  nurse.  "Fawty 
yeah'!" 

"Yes,  yes!"  chirruped  the  girl.  "Pop-a's  up  the 
river  now,  building  the  Paragon!  We're  on  our  way 
to  join  him!" 

22 


RAMSEY  HAYLE 

"Law',  missy,"  gently  chid  the  nurse,  made  anxious 
by  a  new  approach  which  Ramsey  was  trying  to  ignore, 
"dese  gen'lemens  knows  all  dat." 

Ramsey  twitched  her  shoulders  and  waist.  Her  lips 
parted  for  a  bright  question,  but  it  was  interrupted. 
The  interrupters  were  the  restless  twins,  whose  tread 
sounded  peremptory  even  on  the  painted  canvas  of 
the  deck,  and  the  fineness  of  whose  presence  was 
dimmed  only  by  the  hardy  lawlessness  which,  in  their 
own  eyes,  was  their  crowning  virtue. 

"Ramsey,"  drawled  one  of  them,  who  somehow 
seemed  the  more  forceful  of  the  two.  He  spoke  as  if 
amazed  at  his  own  self-restraint.  She  whisked  round 
to  him.  He  made  his  eyes  heavy:  "Have  you  had  any 
proper  introduction  to  these — gentlemen?" 

A.  white-jacket,  holding  a  large  hand-bell  by  its 
tongue,  bowed  low  before  the  captain,  received  a  nod, 
and  minced  away.  With  suspended  breath  the  girl 
stared  an  instant  on  her  brother,  then  on  the  captain, 
and  then  on  his  father;  but  as  her  eyes  came  round  to 
Hugh  his  solemnity  caught  her  unprepared,  and,  with 
every  curl  shaking,  she  broke  out  in  a  tinkling  laugh  so 
straight  from  the  heart,  so  innocent,  and  so  helpless 
that  even  the  frightened  old  woman  chuckled.  Ramsey 
wheeled,  snatched  the  nurse  round,  and  hurried  her 
off  to  a  stair,  hanging  to  her  arm,  tiptoeing,  dancing, 
and  carolling  in  the  rhythm  of  the  supper-bell  below: 

"Ringading  tingalingaty,  ringadang  ding, 
Ringading  tingalingaty,  ringadang  ding." 

23 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Red  and  dumb,  the  questioner  glared  after  them  un 
til,  near  one  of  the  great  paddle-boxes,  they  vanished 
below.  But  his  brother,  the  one  who  had  the  trick  of 
widening  his  eyes,  found  words.  "Captain  Courte- 
ney,"  he  said,  "by  what  right  does  your  son — or  even 
do  you,  sir — take  the  liberty,  on  the  hurricane-deck  of 
a  steamboat,  to  scrape  acquaintance  with  an  un- 
protec ?" 

The  captain  had  turned  his  back.  "Hugh,"  he 
affably  said,  "  will  you  see  what  these  young  gentlemen 
want?"  And  then  to  the  older  man:  "Come,  father, 
let's  go  to  supper."  They  went. 


24 


VI 
HAYLE'S  TWINS 

HUGH  was  grateful  for  this  task  in  diplomacy,  yet 
wondered  what  mess  he  should  make  of  it. 

He  was  here  for  just  such  matters,  let  loose  from 
tutor  and  books  for  the  summer,  to  study  the  handling 
of  a  steamboat,  one  large  part  of  which,  of  course,  was 
handling  the  people  aboard.  Both  pilots,  up  yonder, 
knew  this  was  his  role.  Already  he  had  tried  his  un- 
skill — or  let  "Ramsey"  try  it — and  had  learned  a 
point  or  two.  She  had  shown  him,  at  least  twice,  what 
value  there  might  be  in  a  well-timed,  unmanageable 
laugh.  But  a  well-timed,  unmanageable  laugh  is 
purely  a  natural  gift.  If  it  was  to  come  to  his  aid,  it 
would  have  to  come  of  itself.  Lucian,  the  twin  who 
had  asked  the  last  question,  turned  upon  him. 

Hugh  smilingly  lifted  a  pacifying  hand.  "You're 
entirely  mistaken,"  he  said.  "Nobody's  tried  to 
scrape  acquaintance."  In  the  midst  of  the  last  two 
words,  sure  enough,  there  broke  from  him  a  laugh 
which  to  him  seemed  so  honest,  friendly,  well  justified, 
and  unmanageable  that  he  stood  astounded  when  his 
accuser  blazed  with  wrath. 

"You  lie,  damn  you!"  was  the  answering  cry. 
25 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"And  then  you  laugh  in  my  face!  We  saw  you — all 
three  of  you — just  now!"  The  note  was  so  high  that 
one  of  the  pilots  began  to  loiter  down  from  the  pilot 
house. 

Hugh  crimsoned.  "I  see,"  he  said,  advancing  step 
by  step  as  the  frenzied  boy  drew  back.  "You  really 
don't  want  a  peaceable  explanation,  at  all,  do  you?" 

The  other  twin,  Julian,  arrested  his  brother's  back 
step  by  a  touch  and  spoke  for  him:  "No,  sir,  we  don't. 
You  can't  ' peaceably  explain*  foul  treatment,  you 
damned  fool,  and  that's  all  we  Hayles  have  had  of 
you  Courteneys  this  day.  We  want  satisfaction !  We 
don't  ask  it,  we'll  take  it!  And  we'll  get  it" — here  a 
ripping  oath — "if  we  have  to  wait  for  it  ten  years!" 

This  time  Hugh  paled.  "It  needn't  take  ten  min 
utes,"  he  said.  "  Come  down  to  the  freight  deck,  into 
the  engine  room,  and  I'll  give  both  of  you  so  much  of 
it  that  you  won't  know  yourselves  apart." 

"One  more  insult!"  cried  Lucian,  the  boy  who  so 
often  widened  his  eyes,  while  Julian,  narrowing  his 
lids,  said  in  a  tone  suddenly  icy: 

"That  classes  you,  sir,  on  the  freight  deck." 

"We  don't  fight  deck  hands,"  said  Lucian. 

"Nor  emigrants!"  sneered  his  brother.  "And  when 
we  fight  gentlemen  we  fight  with  weapons,  sir,  as  gen 
tlemen  should." 

Hugh's  awkward  laugh  came  again,  and  the  pilot 
who  had  come  down  from  beside  his  fellow  at  the  wheel 
inquired : 

"What's  the  fraction  here?" 

26 


HAYLE'S  TWINS 

"Oh,  nothing/'  said  Hugh. 

"Everything!"  cried  Julian.  "And  you'll  find  it 
so  the  first  time  we  get  a  fair  chance  at  you — any  of 
you!" 

The  pilot  was  amiable.  "Hold  on,"  he  suggested. 
"See  here,  my  young  friend,  what  do  you  reckon  your 
father'd  do  to  this  young  man" — touching  Hugh — 
"if  he  should  rip  around  on  a  Hayle  boat  as  you're 
doing  here?" 

"That's  a  totally  different  matter,  sir!" 

The  pilot  smiled.  "  Don't  you  know  Gideon  Hayle 
would  put  him  ashore  at  the  first  wood-yard?" 

"He'd  be  wrong  if  he  didn't,"  gravely  said  Hugh. 

"Do  you  mean  that  for  a  threat? — either  of  you?" 
snapped  Lucian. 

"No,"  said  the  pilot,  "I  was  merely  trying  to  rea 
son  with  you.  Come,  now,  go  down  to  supper.  It's  a 
roaring  good  one:  crawfish  gumbo,  riz  biscuits,  fresh 
butter,  fried  oysters,  and  coffee  to  make  your  hair  curl. 
Go  on,  both  of  you.  You've  had — naturally  enough — 
last  day  in  the  city — a  few  juleps  too  many,  but  that's 
all  right.  A  square  meal,  a  night's  rest,  and  you'll 
wake  up  in  the  morning  with  Baton  Rouge  and  all  the 
sugar  lands  astern,  the  big  cotton  plantations  on  both 
sides  of  us,  you  feeling  at  home  with  everybody,  every 
body  at  home  with  you." 

"Many  thanks,"  sneered  Julian.  "We'll  go  to  our 
meals  self-invited.  Good  evening." 

Hugh  granted  the  pair  a  slight  nod.  As  they  went, 
Lucian,  looking  back  over  Julian's  shoulder  with  eyes 

27 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

bigger  than  ever,  said:  "We'll  wake  up  in  the  morning 
without  the  least  change  of  feeling  for  this  boat's 
owners,  their  relatives,  or  their  hirelings." 

The  relative  and  the  hireling  glanced  sharply  at 
each  other.  But  then  Hugh  said  quietly:  "A  man 
can't  quarrel  with  boys,  Mr.  Watson." 

"  No,"  mused  the  pilot  aloud  as  he  watched  the  pair 
go  below,  "but  he  can  wait.  They'll  soon  be  men." 

"And  this  be  all  forgotten,"  said  Hugh. 

"Not  by  them!"  rejoined  Mr.  Watson.  "They'll 
remember  it  ef  they  have  to  tattoo  it — on  their  stom 
achs." 

"I  should  have  managed  them  better,"  said  Hugh. 

"  Lord,  boy,  nobody's  ever  managed  them  sence  they 
was  born."  The  speaker  sauntered  back  toward  the 
pilot-house,  coining  rhetoric  in  his  mind  to  relieve  his 
rage.  "It's  only  the  long-looked-for  come  at  last," 
he  thought,  "and  come  toe  last."  As  he  resumed  the 
bench  behind  his  partner  his  wrath  at  length  burst 
out: 

"Well,  of  all  the  hell-fry  I  ever  come  across !" 

"And  they  'How  to  keep  things  fry  in',"  said  his 
mate. 

Which  made  Watson  even  more  rhetorical.  "Yes, 
it's  their  only  salvation  from  their  rotten  insignifi 
cance."  He  meditated.  "And  yet — hnn!"  He  was 
about  to  say  something  much  kindlier  when  suddenly 
he  laughed  down  from  a  side  window  upon  the  twins 
returned.  "Well,  I'll  swear!" 

"We  heard,  sir,"  said  Julian  with  a  lordly  bow. 

28 


HAYLE'S  TWINS 

"And  you,"  chimed  Lucian,  "shall  hear  later." 
Rather  aimlessly  they  turned  and  again  disappeared, 
and  after  a  moment  or  two  the  man  at  the  wheel  asked, 
with  playful  softness,  with  his  eyes  on  the  roof  below: 

"D'you  reckon  yon  other  two  will  ever  manage  to 
offset  the  tricks  o'  Hayle's  twins?" 

His  partner  rose  and  looked  down.  The  old  nurse 
and  the  third  Hayle  brother  stood  side  by  side  watch 
ing  the  beautiful  low-lying  plantations  unbrokenly 
swing  by  behind  the  embankments  of  the  eastern  shore. 
The  level  fields  of  young  sugar-cane  reposed  in  a  twi 
light  haze,  while  the  rows  of  whitewashed  slave  cabins, 
the  tall  red  chimneys  of  the  great  sugar-houses,  and  the 
white-pillared  verandas  of  the  masters'  dwellings  em 
bowered  in  their  evergreen  gardens,  still  showed  clear 
in  the  last  lights  of  day.  But  the  query  was  not  as 
to  the  nurse  and  the  boy.  Near  them  stood  Ramsey, 
with  arms  akimbo,  once  more  conversing  with  Hugh. 

"Oh!"  said  the  glowing  Watson.  "If  that's  to  be 
the  game,  Ned,  I'm  in  it,  sir!  I'm  in  it!" 

"Just's  well,  Watsy.  You're  in  the  twins'  game 
anyhow." 

Meantime  Ramsey's  talk  flowed  on  like  brook  water, 
Hugh's  meeting  it  like  the  brook's  bowlders: 

"Guess  who's  at  the  head  of  the  table!" 

"Who?  my  grandfather?" 

"No,  he's  'way  down  at  the  men's  end." 

"Well,  then,  father?" 

"Yes!    And  who's  sitting  next  him — on  his  right?" 

"Your  mother?" 

29 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Yes!  And  guess  who's  going  to  sit  at  the  head  of 
the  children's  table.  You!" 

"How  do  you  know  that?" 

The  reply  was  chanted :  "  I  asked  the  steward  to  put 
you  there."  She  laughed  and  glanced  furtively  at  her 
unheeding  brother.  Then  her  eyes  came  back:  "And 
I'm  to  be  the  first  on  your  right!"  She  spread  her 
arms  like  wings. 

"Why,  Miss  Ramsey!"  protested  the  nurse. 

Hugh  blushed  into  his  limp,  turn-down  collar.  "I 
don't  believe  you'd  better,"  he  said. 

"I  will!"  said  Ramsey,  lifting  her  chin. 


VII 
SUPPER 

DEEP  in  love  with  the  river  life  was  Ramsey. 

She  had  tried  it  now,  thoroughly,  for  an  hour,  and 
was  sure !  The  twenty-four  hours'  trip  down  from  her 
plantation  home,  on  the  first  boat  that  happened  along, 
a  rather  poor  thing,  had  been  her  first  experience  and 
a  keen  pleasure;  but  this,  on  the  Votaress,  was  rapture. 

One  effect  was  that  her  mind  teemed  with  family 
history.  Her  grizzly,  giant  father,  whom  she  so  rarely 
saw,  so  vehemently  worshipped,  son  of  a  wild  but  mas 
terful  Kentucky  mountaineer  who  had  spent  his  life 
floating  "broadhorns"  and  barges  down  the  Ohio  and 
Mississippi,  counted  it  one  of  the  drawbacks  of  his 
career  that  so  few  of  his  kindred  cared  for  the  river. 
One  of  his  brothers  was  an  obscure  pilot  somewhere  on 
the  Cumberland  or  Tennessee.  Another,  once  a  pilot, 
then  a  planter,  and  again  a  pilot,  had  been  lost  on  a 
burning  boat,  she  knew  not  how  nor  when.  The  third 
was  a  planter  in  the  Red  River  lowlands.  Her  three 
sisters,  as  we  have  heard  her  tell,  were  planters'  wives, 
and  the  father's  home,  when  ashore,  was  on  a  planta 
tion  of  his  Creole  wife's  inheritance,  four  or  five  miles 
in  behind  the  old  river  town  of  Natchez. 

31 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

There  Ramsey  had  been  born  and  had  grown  up, 
knowing  the  great  Mississippi  only  as  a  remote  realm 
of  poetry  and  adventure  out  of  which  at  intervals  her 
mighty  father  came  to  clasp  to  his  broad  breast  her 
sweet,  glad  mother,  tarry  a  few  days  or  hours,  and  be 
gone  again.  She,  herself,  had  seldom  seen  it  even 
from  the  Natchez  bluffs,  yet  she  could  name  all  its 
chief  boats  apart,  not  by  sight  but  by  the  long,  soft 
bellow  of  their  steam-whistles,  wafted  inland.  But 
now,  at  last,  she  was  a  passenger  on  its  waters.  As 
Hugh,  so  well  grown  up  as  to  breadth  and  gravity, 
took  his  seat  at  the  head  of  the  dazzling  board  that 
filled  the  whole  middle  third  of  the  cabin,  and  as  she 
sat  down  next  him  with  all  the  other  adolescents  and 
juveniles  in  places  of  inferior  dignity,  the  affair  seemed 
the  most  significant  as  well  as  most  brilliant  in  which 
she  had  ever  taken  part. 

Most  significant,  because  to  love  the  river  for  itself 
would  be  to  find  herself  easily  and  lastingly  first  in  her 
father's  love  and  favor — her  only  wish  in  this  world. 
And  most  brilliant:  without  an  angle  or  partition  the 
cabin  extended  between  the  two  parallel  lines  of  state 
rooms  running  aft  through  the  boat's  entire  length 
from  boiler  deck  to  stern  guards.  Its  richly  carpeted 
floor  gently  dipped  amidships  and  as  gently  rose  again 
to  the  far  end,  where  you  might  see  the  sofas  and  piano 
of  that  undivided  part  sanctified  to  the  ladies.  Its 
whole  course  was  dazzlingly  lighted  with  chandeliers 
of  gold  bronze  and  crystal  that  forever  quivered,  glit 
tered,  and  tinkled  to  the  tremor  of  the  boat's  swift 

32 


SUPPER 

advance.  It  was  multitudinously  pilastered,  gleam- 
ingly  white-painted  and  shellacked,  profusely  gilded 
and  pictorially  panelled,  and  it  bewilderingly  reflected 
itself  and  Ramsey  from  mirrors  wide  or  narrow  wher 
ever  mirrors  wide  or  narrow  could  be  set  in. 

A  new  decorum  came  into  her  bearing.  She  ceased 
to  ask  questions.  She  waited  for  them  to  be  put  to 
her — from  the  head  of  the  table — and  smiled  where  an 
hour  earlier  she  would  have  laughed.  Above  all,  she 
felt  in  her  spirit  the  same  dreamy  strangeness  she  had 
so  lately  felt  in  her  bodily  frame  when  the  boat  first 
began  to  move:  a  feeling  as  if  the  young  company 
about  her  were  but  stayers  behind  on  a  shore  from 
which  she  was  beginning  to  be  inexorably  borne  away. 
The  wide  river  of  a  world's  life,  to  which  the  rillet  of 
her  own  small  existence  had  been  carelessly  winding, 
was  all  at  once  clearly  in  sight.  She  could  almost  have 
written  verse!  She  yearned  to  tell  her  whole  history, 
but  not  one  personal  question  could  she  lure  from 
Hugh.  Silently  she  recalled  the  story  of  her  Creole 
grandmother,  married  at  fifteen — her  own  present  age. 
That  young  lady  had  met  her  future  husband  just 
this  way  on  Roosevelt's  famous  New  Orleans,  earliest 
steamboat  on  the  Mississippi.  But  there  sat  Hugh,  as 
square,  as  solid,  and  as  incurious  as  an  upended  bale 
of  cotton.  And  still  she  kept  her  manners. 

It  was  but  the  custom  of  the  time  and  region  that  the 
most  honored  guest  of  the  Votaress,  wife  of  her  owner's 
most  formidable  competitor,  with  her  family,  not  only 
should  enjoy  her  journey  wholly  without  cost,  but  that 

33 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

she  should  receive  every  attention  courtesy  could  offer. 
The  heat  of  the  contest  counted  for  nothing.  And  so, 
while  Ramsey  ate  and  talked  with  Hugh,  his  grand 
father,  near  by  in  the  ladies'  cabin,  at  her  left  and  at 
Hugh's  back,  conversed  with  her  mother  on  a  sofa. 
It  was  a  heavenly  hour.  The  resplendent  boat  kept 
her  speed  with  no  inward  sign  of  her  ceaseless  ongoing 
except  the  tremor  of  her  perfect  frame,  the  flutter  of 
her  hundred-footed  tread,  and  the  tinkle  and  prismatic 
twinkle  of  her  pendent  glass,  all  responsively  alter 
nating  with  the  deep  breathings  of  her  stacks,  and 
with  no  sign  of  her  frequent  turnings  but  the  softly 
audible  creepings  of  her  steering-gear. 

While  never  failing  duly  to  receive  and  return  Hugh's 
rather  stiff  attentions,  and  while  doing  superb  justice 
to  the  repast,  Ramsey,  with  side  glances  from  her  large, 
unconscious  eyes  emotionally  enriched  by  long  auburn 
lashes,  easily  and  with  great  zest  contemplated  her 
mother's  charming  complexion,  so  lily-white  and  shell 
pink  for  a  Creole  matron,  as  well  as  the  lovely  con- 
fidingness  of  her  manner,  so  childlike  yet  so  wise.  It 
was  not  for  her  to  know  that  her  mother,  while  hang 
ing  on  every  word  of  the  courtly  old  man,  was  closely 
observing  both  her  and  Hugh. 

The  grandfather,  too,  her  blue-and-auburn  glances 
took  in  side  wise,  as  their  closer  scrutiny  had  ear 
lier  done  pointblank  on  the  hurricane-deck.  He  was 
small,  unmuscular,  clean-shaven,  erect,  placid.  She 
noted  again  his  snowy,  waving  hair,  thin  only  on  his 
pink  crown.  It  shone  like  silk.  He  still  kept  a  soft 

34 


SUPPER 

flush  of  unimpaired  health  and  an  air  of  inner  clean 
ness  equal  to  that  which  showed  outwardly  from  gai- 
tered  shoes  to  the  bell-crowned  beaver  in  his  hand. 
She  observed  the  wide  cambric  ruffle  that  ran  down  his 
much-displayed,  much-pleated  shirt-front.  His  stiff, 
high  stock  was  tied  with  a  limp  white  bow-knot.  His 
standing  collar  covered  half  of  either  cheek.  He  wore 
a  jewelled  breastpin  and  a  heavy  gold  fob-chain  and 
seal.  In  his  too  delicate  hand,  along  with  the  beaver 
and  his  gloves,  was  a  stout,  gold-headed  cane,  and  from 
his  coat  skirt  his  handkerchief  painstakingly  peeped 
out  behind.  All  of  which  seemed  quite  natural  on 
him  and  well  related  to  the  highly  attractive  attire  of 
the  lady  beside  him.  * 

Yet  suddenly  Ramsey  had  a  painful  misgiving. 
Hugh  was  remarking  upon  some  matter  on  the  other 
side  of  the  world,  when  she  asked  him  as  abruptly  as 
a  boat  might  strike  a  snag:  "Is  your  grandfather  a 
Whig?" 

"He  is,"  said  Hugh.     They  laid  up  their  napkins. 

"Oh!"  sighed  Ramsey,  but  then  laughed.  "Is  your 
father  a  Whig,  too?" 

"Yes,  my  father,  too." 

"Not  a  Henry  Clay  Whig?"  she  hopefully  prompted. 

"Yes,  a  Henry  Clay  Whig  yet." 

Self-consciously  she  dropped  her  head  over  the  back 
of  her  chair  to  be  rid  of  her  curls.  "My  father,"  she 
musingly  observed,  "is  a  Democrat." 

"Yet  we  can  be  friends,"  said  Hugh,  "can't  we?" 
wondering,  when  he  had  asked,  why  they  need  be. 

35 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Ramsey  did  not  say.  With  her  chin  in  her  collar  she 
looked  herself  over  carefully  while  she  brokenly  re 
marked,  "All  our  men  folks — four  men — three  boys — 
are — red-hot  Democrats." 

But  on  the  last  word  she  checked  and  hearkened,  and 
they  smiled  together  at  the  far-away  whistle  of  another 
steamer,  deep-toned,  mellowed  by  distance,  and  long 
sustained. 

"That's  a  Courteney  boat,"  quietly  began  Hugh, 
but  Ramsey  was  up  and  off. 

"  The  Empress  !"  she  called  to  her  mother  as  she  flew. 


VIII 
QUESTIONS 

Our  forward  of  the  texas  and  close  beside  the  great 
bell,  Ramsey  halted,  alone  in  the  boundless  starlight 
and  rippling  breeze  on  the  cabin  roof.  The  stately 
Votaress,  with  her  towering  funnels  lost  in  the  upper 
night,  was  running  well  inshore  under  a  point,  wrapped 
in  a  world-wide  silence  broken  only  by  the  placid  outgo 
of  her  own  vast  breath,  the  soft  rush  of  her  torrential 
footsteps  far  below,  and  the  answering  rustle  of  the 
nearer  shore.  Even  on  that  side  the  dark  land  con 
fessed  no  outline  save  the  low  tree  tops  of  two  or  three 
plantation-house  groves,  from  each  of  which  shone  a 
lighted  window  or  two,  tinier  and  lonelier  than  a  glow 
worm. 

Across  the  point,  between  its  groves,  the  flood  re 
vealed  itself  at  intervals  in  pale  shimmerings,  and  just 
beyond  one  of  these  gleams,  in  mid-river,  shone  the 
nearing  boat,  her  countless  lights  merged  into  a  sin 
gle  sheen  brokenly  repeated  in  the  water  beneath  her. 
Hugh  came  to  the  girl's  side  at  a  moment  when  a 
wood  on  the  point's  extreme  end  concealed  the  steam 
er's  approach;  but  in  the  next  the  fleet  comer  swept 
out  of  hiding,  an  empress  in  truth  to  Ramsey,  jewelled, 

37 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

from  furnace  doors  to  texas  roof,  with  many-colored 
lights  as  if  in  coronation  robes. 

"That  is  how  we  look  to  her,"  said  Hugh. 

But  his  words  were  lost.  With  a  startled  laugh  the 
girl  shrank  low  over  the  bell,  clutching  it  as  if  a  whirl 
wind  had  struck  them,  while  its  single,  majestic  peal 
thundering,  "I  pass  to  starboard,  hail!  farewell!" 
drowned  speech  and  mind  in  its  stupendous  roar. 
Mirth,  too,  was  drowned  in  awe.  And  now  the  vast 
din  ceased,  and  now  the  Empress,  every  moment  more 
resplendent,  responded,  first  with  her  bell,  then  with  the 
long,  solemn  halloo  of  her  whistle,  and  presently  with 
huzzas  from  all  her  glittering  decks  as  she  passed  within 
a  cable's  length. 

Ramsey  gazed  entranced.  Not  until  the  fading  vi 
sion  had  dwindled  down  and  around  the  great  bend 
did  her  tread  realize  again  the  quivering  deck,  or  her 
sight  reawaken  to  the  wonder  of  the  ever  coming, 
parting,  passing  flood,  its  prostrate,  phantom  shores, 
and  the  starry  hosts  and  illimitable  deeps  of  the  sky. 
Even  then  she  was  but  half-way  back  to  earth,  un 
conscious  that  she  had  stepped  down  forward  to 
the  captain's  chair  and  into  a  group  including 
Hugh  and  his  grandfather,  her  mother  and  youngest 
brother. 

"Oh!"  she  cried,  turning,  "it's  as  if—"  and  found 
herself  face  to  face  not  with  Hugh  but  his  father. 

"As  if — what?"  smilingly  asked  the  boat's  master. 

"As  if,"  she  said  more  softly,  "we'd  left  one  world 
and  were  hunting  another." 

38 


QUESTIONS 

His  smile  grew.  Her  own  resented  it.  "I  know 
what  you're  thinking,"  she  said,  and  glanced  away. 
Her  curls  twitched,  her  chin  tilted,  and  she  sent  down 
from  it  one  of  those  visible  waves  that  ended  at  her 
feet,  as  if  they  were  the  cracker  of  the  whip.  When  he 
spoke,  her  eyes  came  back  at  him  sidelong. 

"I  was  thinking  only,"  he  rejoined,  "that  at  your 
age  it's  always  as  if  we'd  just  left  one  world  and  were 
seeking  another." 

Her  eyes — and  lashes — were  sceptical.  "Weren't 
you  going  to  say  it  would  seem  more  so  if  we  should 
blowup?" 

"No,"  he  laughed,  "nothing  like  it." 

She  began  absently  to  scrutinize  his  entire  dress.  It 
was  like  the  old  man's  though  without  the  jewelry 
and  ruffles.  "Were  you  ever  in  an  explosion?"  she 
asked.  The  words  came  of  themselves.  She  was  back 
sliding  from  her  table  decorum. 

"No,"  he  replied,  "I  was  never  in  an  explosion." 

"Ah,  my  child!"  broke  in  the  mother,  "questions 
again?  And  even  to  Captain  Courteney?" 

Ramsey  laughed,  gave  the  deck  a  wilful  scuff,  and 
demanded  of  the  captain:  "Were  you  ever  on  a  burn 
ing  boat?" 

Madame  Hayle  flinched,  gasped,  and  drew  her  from 
him  as  he  replied:  "Yes — once — I  was." 

The  mother  started  again.  "There!"  she  cried; 
"so!  you  'ave  it!  Now,  go" — she  laughingly  pushed 
the  querist — "go,  talk  with  Hugh — allong  with  yo' 
brotheh." 

39 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

The  girl,  as  she  backed  away,  turned  to  the  grand 
father:  "Was  Hugh  on  the  boat — when  it  burned?" 

Her  mother  smiled  with  new  pain,  but  while  the  cap 
tain  bowed  himself  away  the  old  man  replied :  "  Come, 
Miss  Ramsey,  sit  down  with  me  and  I'll  tell  you  the 
story — if  we  may,  madam? — Hugh — some  chairs,  will 
you?" 

Ramsey  sprang  to  Hugh's  aid,  but  her  brother  had 
a  mind  for  mutiny.  "You  told  me,"  he  accused  his 
mother,  "that  I  could  go  watch  them  play  cards!" 

"Yes?"  she  asked  in  a  pretty  irony;  "well,  then,  of 
co'se,  sisteh  or  no  sisteh,  you  muz'  instan'ly  go!" 
The  steady  tinkle  of  the  sister's  laughter  as  she  passed 
with  a  chair  provoked  her  own:  "Yes,  go!  Me,  I'll 
rimmain  with  her  till  Joy" — the  nurse — "ritturn  from 
suppeh." 

The  boy  went,  flinging  back  for  a  last  word:  "You 
want  to  hear  the  story  as  bad  as  Ramsey  does!" 

"Tis  true!"  she  brightly  said  to  the  old  gentleman. 
"Since  all  those  nine  year',  me,  I've  want'  to  hear  the 
Courteney  side  of  that!" — little  supposing  that  this 
was  what  neither  she  nor  Ramsey  would  then  or  ever 
quite  lay  hold  upon. 

"No,"  laughed  the  irrelevant  girl  to  the  old  man, 
"you  sit  here."  She  faced  him  up-stream,  her  mother 
on  his  "stabboard,"  as  she  said,  herself  on  his  "lab- 
board,"  and  Hugh  on  her  left,  "labboardest  of  all." 
But — to  Hugh — "now,  wait — wait!  If  I'm  on  your 
stabboard — how  can  you  be — on  my  lab' — ?  Oh,  yes, 
I  see!"  She  dropped  into  her  chair  and,  to  Hugh's 

40 


QUESTIONS 

great  weariness,  laughed  till  her  curls  fell  on  her  cheeks, 
larboard  and  starboard  by  turns. 

Yet  she  ceased  sooner  than  any  one  had  hoped  and 
the  four  sat  silent  while  several  ladies  sauntered  past 
on  the  arms  of  escorts,  all  highly  entertained  to  see  such 
cordiality  between  any  Hayles  and  the  Courteneys. 
One  trio  that  paused  near  by  to  catch  some  Hayle  or 
Courteney  utterance  praised  aloud  the  enchantment 
of  the  night  and  of  the  boat's  speed,  and  as  they 
strolled  on  again,  having  caught  nothing,  Ramsey 
breathed  softly  to  the  old  man: 

"  They  can't  describe  it !    Nobody  can !    I've  tried ! " 

Through  four  or  five  breathings  of  the  giant  chim- 
.neys  she  waited  for  the  story  she  was  not  to  hear,  and 
at  length  herself  broke  silence.  "I  think,"  she  said, 
"this  boat  is  the  most  wonderful  thing  in  the  world." 

No  one  rejoined  that  it  was  or  was  not.  "Don't 
you?"  she  airily  challenged  the  "labboardest  of  all," 
defensively  letting  herself  realize  how  nearly  a  woman 
she  was,  how  merely  a  boy  was  he. 

"It's  very  wonderful,"  replied  Hugh  indulgently,  as 
one  so  nearly  a  man  should  to  one  so  merely  a  child. 
"I've  never  seen  anything  in  this  world  that  wasn't." 

"Neither  have  I!"  cried  the  girl  and  clapped  her 
hands. 

In  that  moment,  for  the  first  time,  each  thought 
how  admirable  the  other,  as  yet  so  absurd,  was — some 
day — probably — going — to  be,  and  right  there  arose 
between  them  a  fellowship  more  potent  than  either 
would  recognize  for  a  length  of  hours  or  days  which  is 

41 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

here  best  left  unstated.  Their  two  seniors  saw;  saw, 
but  kept  still — mais  pourquoi  non? — and  why  not? — 
while  the  great  steamer  breathed  on,  quivered  on, 
breathed  and  quivered,  on  and  on. 

Ramsey  transiently  forgot  them.  "Do  you,  too," 
she  asked  her  "labboardest,"  "feel  yourself  widen  out 
of  yourself  and  down  and  round  into  all  this  wonderful 
boat  till  you  are  it  and  it's  all — you?" 

"Yes,"  Hugh  confessed,  and  they  in  turn  were  still, 
even  though  the  seniors  resumed  converse,  one  mildly 
telling  which  sugar  estates  along  the  shore  had  been 
whose  and  the  other  recounting  how  their  heirs  had 
intermarried. 


42 


IX 
SITTING  SILENT 

THUS  they  sat,  Hugh  and  Ramsey,  not  recognizing 
that  sitting  silent  is  a  symptom. 

They  sat  and  together  felt  their  consciousness,  his 
and  hers,  wing  and  wing,  widen  beyond  their  own 
frames  to  a  mightier  embodiment  in  this  great  cloud- 
white  structure  breasting  the  air  that  cooled  their 
brows  and  cleaving  unseen  the  flood  so  far  beneath 
them.  Together  in  this  greater  self  they  felt  the  head 
way  of  the  long,  low  hull,  the  prodigious  heart  glow  of 
the  hungry  fires,  the  cyclopean  push  of  steam  in  eight 
vast  boilers,  the  pulsing  click  and  travail  of  the  engines 
— whisper  of  valve  and  cylinder,  noiseless  in-plunge  and 
out-glide  of  shining  rods — the  ten-foot  stroke  of  either 
shaft  and  equal  sweep  of  crank,  the  nimble  beat  of 
paddle-wheels  and  tumble  of  their  cataracts,  the  tran 
quil  creep  of  tiller-ropes,  and  the  compelling  swing  and 
sage  guidance  of  the  helm. 

In  this  vaster  consciousness,  by  a  partnership  which 
had  to  be  tacit  or  instantly  perish,  they  easily  lifted 
and  carried  the  abounding  freight,  of  every  form  and 
substance,  destined  for  the  feeding,  apparelling,  or 
equipment  of  thousands  awaiting  it  in  homes  and 
families  whose  strivings  and  fortunes  helped  to  make 

43 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

that  universal  wonder  of  things  which  kept  Hugh  grave 
and  Ramsey  laughing.  Especially  the  teeming  human 
life  of  the  great  craft  did  these  two  jointly  draw  into 
this  magnified  self.  They  drew  in  deck-hands,  mates, 
watchmen,  firemen,  engineers,  and  strikers,  each  with 
some  aspiration  and  some  appetite.  They  drew  in 
stewards,  cooks,  chambermaids,  and  cabin-boys,  every 
one'  with  yearnings  and  sacrifices;  pilots,  clerks,  and 
mud  clerks,  full  of  histories  and  dreams.  Down  in 
dim  spaces  behind  the  engines  and  between  the  two 
wheels  they  drew  in  the  immigrant  deck  passengers, 
so  mutely  sad  for  the  distant  homes  behind  them,  so 
mutely  hopeful  and  fearful  for  the  distant  homes  before. 
And  on  the  deck  above  these  exiles  they  took  in  the 
cabin  passengers — ladies  who  told  their  lives  over  their 
knitting  or  embroidery  in  floods  of  lamplight  and  the 
cushioned  ease  of  feminine  seclusion;  children  here  and 
there  battling  against  sleep  or  yielding  to  it  in  state 
room  berths;  the  ruder  sex  at  card-tables  in  the  for 
ward  cabin — from  which,  oddly,  the  twins  were  re 
fraining;  three  or  four  tipplers  at  the  fragrant  bar,  and 
one  or  two  readers  under  the  chandeliers.  Outside, 
scores  of  non-readers  sat  in  tilted  chairs,  their  heels 
breast-high  on  the  guard-rails  and  their  minds  to 
bacco-lulled  to  a  silent  content  with  the  breezy  lantern- 
light  of  the  boiler  deck,  the  occasional  passing  of  a 
downward-bound  flatboat  or  steamer,  the  gradual 
overhauling  of  some  craft  that  had  backed  out  earlier 
at  New  Orleans,  and  the  wide,  slow  oscillations  of  the 
unbounded  starlight  overhanging  land  and  flood. 

44 


SITTING  SILENT 

These  too  the  young  pair  included.  All  these  were 
parts  of  their  blended  consciousness  as  the  alert  Ram 
sey  noticed  that  the  grandfather's  talk  had  turned  upon 
Hugh  and  boats. 

"He  and  the  Quakeress  were  the  same  age,"  he  was 
remarking,  when  Ramsey's  laugh  jingled. 

"Both,"  she  broke  in,  "built  the  same  year!"  Her 
curls  switched  backward  at  the  old  man.  She  faced 
Hugh.  "  Where  were  you  born  ?  " 

But  he  only  signed  for  her  not  to  interrupt.  In  the 
dim  light  she  made  a  wry  face  at  him  and  jingled  again 
while  her  mother  said:  "On  the  Quakerezz! — end  of 
trial  trip ! — whiles  landing  at  New  Orleans !  Me,  I  was 
there,  ad  the  landingg!  Yes!  on  the  boat  of  my 
'usband,  the  Conqueror — also  trial  trip — arrive '  since 
only  one  hour  biffo'!" 

Ramsey,  with  her  eyes  roaming  over  Hugh,  faintly 
kept  up  her  laugh,  yet  parallel  with  it  her  mother  man 
aged  to  continue:  "Yes,  that  was  in  eighteen-thirty- 
three,  Janawary.  Because  that  was  the  winter  when 
Jackson  he  conquer'  Clay  in  the  election  and  conquer' 
Calhoun  in  the  nullification,  and  tha'z  the  cause  why 
my  'usband  he  name'  his  boat  the  Conqueror.  Ah, 
veree  well  I  rimember  that;  how  the  Quakerezz  she 
came  cre-eepingg  in,  out  of  that  fog,  an'  like  the  fog 
so  still  an'  white,  cloze  aggains'  the  Conqueror.  And 
the  firz'  news  they  pazz " 

The  old  nurse  reappeared,  laid  thin  shawls  on  the 
mother  and  daughter,  and  sat  down  on  the  deck  close 
below  Ramsey. 

45 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Firz'  news  they  pazz,"  resumed  the  speaker,  "'tis 
that  Captain  Courteney  he's  got  with  him  his  wife, 
from  Philadelphia,  and " 

Ramsey  broke  in  merrily:  "Was  she  the  Quakeress? 
Was  the  Quakeress  named  for  her?" 

"  Yes,  and  she's  juz'  have,  they  say,  a  HT  son !  An' 
my  'usband  he  di'n'  like  that!  Because " 

"But  you  had  three  little  girls!"  said  Ramsey. 

"Girl',  they  di'n'  count!  Because  those  girl',  you 
know,  they  can'  never  run  those  steam6oa£'." 

"I  don't  see  why,"  said  Ramsey.  Hugh  might  sit 
silent  if  he  chose;  her  silent  sitting  was  over. 

"They  di'n'  count,"  repeated  the  lady.  "And  so 
my  'usband  he  di'n'  want  those  Courteney'  to  be  ahead 
of  those  Hayle'  in  having  boys!" 

"He  little  knew  what  was  coming,"  said  Ramsey, 
and  wondered  why  the  remark  was  ignored,  especially 
when 

"Me,"  said  the  pretty  matron,  "I  was  nearly  ready 
to  'ave  those  twin',  but  Gideon  Hayle  he  di'n'  know 
they  was  goin'  be  twin',  an'  he  di'n'  know  those  twin' 
goin'  be  boys!"  She  gently  laughed.  The  daughter 
stared  as  if  in  no  light — or  shade — could  those  twins 
be  a  laughing  matter,  but  the  mother  spoke  on  gayly: 
"  Never  I  'ear  my  'usband  swear  so  hard — an'  so  manny 
way' — like  that  day — at  everything — everybody.  Not 
because  that  liT  babee — if  that  be  all;  but  because  he 
see  that  boat,  that  she's  the  mo'  fine  boat,  that  Quak- 
erezz,  an'  when  they  ripport  her  run  from  Loui'ville, 
he's  already  affraid — to  hisseff — that  she's  goin'  to  be 
the  mo'  fas'." 

46 


SITTING  SILENT 

"And  was  she?"  asked  the  girl. 

"Barely,"  said  the  grandfather.  "It  took  years  to 
prove  it  and  by  that  time  your  father  had  built  an 
other  boat." 

"The  Chevalier!"  she  exclaimed. 

"Yes,  which  beat  the  Quakeress  once  or  twice  nearly 
every  season  until  the  Quakeress  burned." 

"Burned!"  cried  Ramsey,  while  Hugh, stirred  to  rise, 
yet  remained.  "Was  it  the  Quakeress  that — ?"  But 
the  old  man  was  telling  earlier  history  and  she  sank 
repiningly  in  her  seat.  "You're  going  backward,"  she 
softly  whined. 

"In  'sixteen,"  he  said,  "I  built  the  Huntress, 
and " 

"We  already  know  about  that,"  sighed  Ramsey, 
bracing  her  feet  in  old  Joy's  hands.  "I  know  it  from 
old  nursie." 

"Ramsey!"  murmured  her  mother. 

"In  'seventeen,"  said  the  chronicler,  "Miss  Ramsey's 
grandfather  built  the  Hunter.  In  'twenty  he  built  the 
Charioteer " 

"Ain't  we  ever  going  to  hear  about  the  burning?" 
laughingly  whimpered  the  girl,  but  the  narrator  kept 
on: 

"In  'twenty-one  I  built  the  Shepherdess " 

Ramsey  all  at  once  revived.  "  And  did  the  Shep 
herdess  outrun  the  Charioteer?" 

"A  trifle,  yes." 

"Humph!"  she  said  to  herself,  and  twice  again,  on  a 
higher  key  and  with  a  grimace  at  Hugh,  "humph!" 

47 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"  But  in  'twenty-five  the  Charioteer  was  run  into  and 
sunk,  and  the  Hayle  boat  that  came  next,"  continued 
the  historian,  "was  the  best  ever  seen  till  then  on 
these  waters,  of  the  hundred  and  sixty-five  steamers 
launched." 

"Yes,"  said  Madame  Hayle,  "and  the  firz'  boat 
what  my  'usband  was  captain." 

Ramsey  started  wildly.  "The  Admiral!''  she  cried 
at  Hugh.  She  whisked  round  on  his  grandfather. 
"And  then — to  beat  the  Admiral — you  built ?" 

"My  son  built— the  Abbess" 

"And  did  the  Abbess  beat  the  Admiral?" 

"  Not  for  a  long  time.  But  in  'thirty-three  the  Con 
queror's  very  first  run  broke  the  Abbess's  record." 

But  madame  was  not  to  be  outdone  in  generosity. 
"Ah,  yes,"  she  cried,  "but  that  same  day  the  Quakerezz 
she  beat  the  Conqueror  !"  At  which  the  teased  Ram 
sey,  suddenly  seeing  that  all  this  was  but  a  roundabout 
peacemaking  where  she  could  discern  no  strife,  laughed 
herself  so  limp  that  she  all  but  tumbled  into  old  Joy's 
lap. 

"That's  where  we  began!"  she  commented. 

"True,"  said  the  old  man  to  her  mother,  "but  in 
'thirty-eight  came  your  husband's  Chevalier " 

"Came — yes!  only  to  get  beat  racing  yo"' — the 
name  eluded  her 

"Ambassadress"  prompted  Ramsey.  "Everybody 
knows  about  that — 'way  back  in  the  country — even 
the  dates.  The  Ambassadress  beat  the  Chevalier,  the 
Autocrat  beat  the  Ambassadress,  the  Empress  beat 

48 


SITTING  SILENT 

the  Autocrat,  the  Regent  beat  the  Empress,  te  turn,  te 
turn,  te  turn!  Didn't  the  Quakeress  ever  burn  up, 
after  all?" 

"Ramsey " 

"Oh,  well!  this  forever  sitting  silent!    I 1" 

"Ramsey! " 


49 


X 

PERIL 

RAMSEY  clutched  the  old  man's  arm,  pressed  curls 
and  brow  against  it,  and  laughed  in  a  rillet  of  pure 
silver. 

Hugh  bore  it,  sitting  silent,  while  the  great  boat,  so 
humanly  alive  and  aglow  in  every  part,  ceaselessly 
breathed  above  and  quivered  below,  and  the  ruffling 
breeze  as  ceaselessly  confirmed  her  unflagging  speed. 
The  mere  "catalogue  of  the  ships"  had  lighted  in  him 
a  secret  glow  that  persisted.  In  his  roused  imagina 
tion  the  long  pageant  of  the  rival  steamers  still  moved 
on  through  the  rudely  thronging,  ever-multiplying  fleet 
of  the  boundless  valley's  yearly  swelling  commerce, 
ocean-distant  from  all  disparaging  contrasts  of  riper 
empires;  moved,  yeasting,  ruffling,  through  forty  years 
of  a  civilization's  genesis,  each  new  boat,  Hayle  or 
Courteney,  more  beautifully  capable  than  her  newest 
senior,  and  each,  in  her  time  and  degree,  as  cloud-white 
by  day,  as  luminous  by  night,  and  as  rife  with  human 
purpose  and  human  hazards  as  this  incomparable 
Votaress. 

The  girl's  mirth  faded.  From  behind  the  four  a 
quiet  tread  drew  near.  From  another  quarter  came 
two  other  steps,  lighter  yet  more  assertive.  The  one 

50 


PERIL 

was  John  Courteney's;  the  two,  that  halted  farther 
away,  meant  again  the  twins. 

"Well,  captain?"  mildly  said  the  grandfather. 

"Well,  commodore?"  said  the  captain,  declining  his 
son's  chair. 

"Oh,  good!"  cried  Ramsey,  and  rose  with  her  nurse. 
"I  didn't  know  anybody  but  my  father  was  called 
commodore!" 

"Yes,"  replied  the  captain,  "my  father  too." 

"  Where' ve  you  been?"  asked  the  fearless  girl. 

His  answer  was  mainly  to  her  mother:  "I've  been 
making  myself  acquainted  in  the  ladies'  cabin.  This 
is  no  Hudson  River  boat,  you  know — whole  trip  in  a 
day's  jaunt." 

"Ah,  'tis  a  voyage!"  said  madame. 

"So  it's  well  to  know  one's  people,"  added  he.  He 
looked  up  into  the  night.  "What  a  sky!  Miss  Ram 
sey,  did  you  ever  see,  through  a  glass,  the  Golden  Locks 
of  Berenice?" 

"'The  gold—"  she  began  eagerly— " no-o !  What 
are  the  golden — ?"  But  there  she  checked,  fell  upon 
old  Joy,  and  laughed  whimperingly,  "That's  a  dig  at 
my  red  hair!" 

One  of  the  twins  gravely  accosted  his  mother,  but 
she  and  the  captain  were  laughing  at  Ramsey  while 
the  grandfather  said:  "My  dear  child,  your  hair  is 
beautiful." 

With  face  still  hid  on  Joy's  bosom,  the  girl  shuffled 
her  feet,  then  turned  upon  the  old  man  and  playfully 
intoned: 

51 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"I'm  not  a  child!" 

"Ramsey!"  said  the  mother,  and  "Missie!"  said  the 
nurse. 

"Hugh,"  said  the  captain,  "suppose  you  take  Miss 
Ramsey  up  to  the  pilot-house  and  show  her  the " 

The  girl  laid  a  hand  on  his  arm.  "Do  you  want 
to  tell  mom-a  something  you  don't  want  me  to 
hear?" 

"Why — "  began  the  captain,  and  laughed.  "On 
second  thought,  no.  I  want  to  tell  your  mother  and 
the  commodore  something  before  any  one  else  can, 
and  before  I  tell  any  one  else;  but  you  may  hear  it 
if- 

"  If  I  won't  get  frightened.  Has  anything  happened 
to  the  boat?" 

"Ramsey!"  "Missie!"  lamented  matron  and  serv 
ant  again. 

"Mother,"  with  much  dignity  pleaded  the  twins. 

"Oh,  no,"  said  the  captain,  "not  to  the  boat." 

"I  want  to  stay  and  hear  it,"  whined  Ramsey,  jerk 
ing  up  and  down.  "  I  won't  get  scared." 

'  Tu'd  be  de  fust  time  sence  she  wuz  bawn  ef  she 
did,"  audibly  mused  the  nurse,  and  Hugh  said:  "I 
believe  that." 

The  girl  stared  round  at  him  and  then  back  at  his 
father,  her  eyes  wide  with  merriment.  "  No  Ramsey  to 
the  pilot-house  with  him  if  he  can  help  it!"  she  man 
aged  to  say,  and  fell  over  her  mother  and  nurse,  down 
into  her  chair  and  across  its  arm,  her  laughter  jin 
gling  like  a  basket  of  glass  rolling  down-stairs.  Sud- 

52 


PERIL 

denly  she  hearkened.  The  captain  was  speaking  to  her 
mother : 

"Must  you  reach  LouiVille  as  quickly  as  you 
can?0 

"Ah! — well?  yes?  we  muz'  do  our  possible.  My 
'usband  he — Ramsey!'' 

The  girl  had  turned  face  down  in  a  play  of  col 
lapse.  "Nobody,"  she  piped,  "finishes  what  he  starts 
to  tell!" 

"Ho!"  playfully  retorted  the  mother,  "an'  you  muz' 
go? — cannot  wait?  Well,  good  night."  But  no  one 
went. 

Her  mother  turned  again  to  the  captain.  "  There  is 
something  veree  bad — on  the  boat?"  Ramsey  sat  up 
alert. 

The  captain's  reply  was  heard  by  none  but  her 
mother  and  the  grandfather,  but  evidently  the  twins 
knew  whatever  there  was  to  tell.  "It  was  no  time  to 
take  deck  passengers  at  all!"  said  one  of  them  to  the 
other,  in  full  voice,  while  the  grandfather  was  as 
serting: 

"We  are  as  wholly  at  your  command,  madam,  as  if 
this  were  Gideon  Hayle's  boat.  Our  one  thought  is 
your  safety." 

"And  comfort  of  mind,"  added  the  captain,  about 
to  go. 

Ramsey  guessed  the  trouble.  "We  are  veree 
oblige',"  said  her  mother;  "we'll  continue  on  the 
Votarezz." 

"Goody!"  murmured  the  daughter  to  old  Joy,  to 
53 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Hugh,   and    to   the    captain    as  he    left    the    group. 
"Goody!" 

"Mother!"  protested  the  twins,  "you  must  not!" 

"Oh-h!  you?"  she  radiantly  inquired,  "you  rather 
go  ashore,  you,  eh?  Veree  well.  Doubdlezz  the  cap 
tain  be  please'  to  put  you."  Her  smile  grew  stately 
as  Ramsey  laughed.  She  turned  to  the  grandfather. 
"Never  in  my  life  I  di'n'  ran  away  from  sicknezz.  I 
billieve  anybody  can't  die  till  his  time  come'.  When 
his  time  come'  he'll  die.  My  'usband  he  billieve  that, 
too." 

"Don't  the  Germans  come  from  Germany?"  asked 
Ramsey,  but  no  one  seemed  able  to  tell  her. 

"And  also,"  pursued  the  lady,  "I  billieve  tha'z 
a  cowardly — to  run  away  from  those  sick."  She 
looked  around  for  the  twins  but  they  were  conferring 
aside.  "And  also  I  billieve,  me — like  they  say — to 
get  scare' — tha'z  the  sure  way  to  catch  that  kind  of 
sicknezz. .  Tis  by  that  it  pazz  into  the  syztem!  My 
'usband  he  tell  me  that.  He's  veree  acquaint'  with 
medicine,  my  'usband,  yes!  And " 

"Is  Germany  in  Asia?"  Ramsey  drawled,  but  no 
body  seemed  to  know  anything. 

"And  I  billieve,"  persisted  madame,  "to  continue  on 
the  boat,  tha'z  also  the  mo'  safe.  Because  if  we  leave 
the  boat,  where  we'll  find  one  doctor  for  that  mala- 
dee-e?  An'  if  we  find  one  doctor,  who's  goin'  nurse  us 
in  that  maladee?" 

"Is  Asia — ?"  tried  Ramsey  again,  but  hushed  with  a 
strange  thrill  as  her  ear  caught,  remotely  beneath  her, 
a  faint  sawing  and  hammering. 

54 


PERIL 

"Mo'  better,  I  billieve,"  continued  her  mother,  "we 
continue  on  the  boat  and  ourselve'  nurse  those  sick. 
When  the  Mother  of  God  see'  that  she'll  maybe  privent 
from  coming  our  time  to  die." 

"If  Germany — "  whined  Ramsey,  but  huddled  down 
in  her  seat  as  the  sawing  and  hammering  came 
again 

"What,  my  chile?" 

Light  at  last!  She  instantly  sat  up:  "Why  do  they 
call  it  the  Asiatic  cholera  if — ?"  She  stopped  short. 
From  the  open  deck  far  below  rose  an  angry  cry : 

"Stop  that  fool!    Stop  her!" 

Ramsey  darted  so  recklessly  to  the  low  front  guard 
that  Hugh  darted  also  and  held  her  arm  as  she  bent 
over,  while  close  upon  the  cry  came  a  woman's  long, 
unmistakable  wail  for  her  dead.  Twice  it  filled  the 
air,  then  melted  out  over  the  gliding  waters  and  into 
the  night,  above  the  regardless  undertones  of  the  boat's 
majestic  progress.  Grandfather,  nurse,  mother,  broth 
ers  pressed  after  the  girl  and  Hugh.  Clutched  by  the 
nurse,  released  by  him,  she  still  looked  wildly  down, 
seeing  little  yet  much.  At  their  back  the  great  bell 
boomed.  The  boat's  stem  began  to  turn  to  the  for 
ested  shore.  A  glare  of  torches  at  the  lower  guards 
crimsoned  the  flood  under  the  bows.  She  flashed 
round  accusingly  upon  Hugh: 

"What  are  we  landing  in  the  woods  for?" 

He  met  her  gaze  and  it  fell.  Her  mother  tried  to 
draw  her  away  but  she  dropped  to  her  knees  at  the  rail 
and  bent  her  eyes  upon  a  dark  group  compacting  be 
low.  Hugh  muttered  to  his  grandfather: 

55 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"She'd  better  leave  the  boat.     She'd  rather." 
Catching  the  words,  she  leaped  and  stood,  her  head 
thrown  high.     "I  wouldn't!     I  won't!" 

She  glared  on  him  through  brimming  tears,  but 
something  about  him,  repeated  and  exaggerated  in  the 
twins  as  she  whipped  round  to  them,  reversed  her 
mood.  She  smote  her  brow  into  her  mother's  bosom 
and,  under  the  stress  of  a  silvery  laugh  that  would  not 
be  stifled,  hung  to  the  maternal  neck  and  rocked  from 
side  to  side. 


56 


XI 

FIRST  NIGHT-WATCH 

OFTEN  through  the  first  half  of  that  night,  while 
many  other  matters  pressed  on  them,  the  minds  of  the 
three  Courteneys  turned  to  one  theme.  Ramsey's  in 
quiries  had  called  it  up  and  the  presence  and  plight 
of  the  immigrants,  down  below,  kept  it  before  them: 
the  story  of  Hugh's  grandmother,  born  and  bred  in 
Holland. 

With  Hugh  standing  by,  the  girl  had  drawn  its  re 
cital  from  his  grandfather;  as  whose  bride  that  grand 
mother  had  been  an  immigrant,  like  these,  though 
hardly  in  their  forlorn  way  and  with  Philadelphia,  not 
New  Orleans,  for  a  first  goal.  Thence,  years  later,  with 
husband  and  child,  she  had  reached  and  traversed  this 
wild  river,  when  it  was  so  much  wilder,  and  had  dwelt 
in  New  Orleans  throughout  her  son's,  John  Courteney's, 
boyhood.  Thence  again,  in  his  twenty-first  year,  she 
had  recrossed  the  water  to  inherit  an  estate  and  for 
seven  years  had  lived  in  great  ports  and  capitals  of 
Europe,  often  at  her  husband's  side,  yet  often,  too, 
far  from  him,  as  he — leaving  his  steamboats  to  good 
captains  and  the  mother  to  her  son — came  and  went 
on  commercial  adventures  ocean-wide.  It  was  these 

57 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

first  seven  years  of  John  Courteney's  manhood,  spent 
in  transatlantic  study,  society,  public  affairs,  and  a 
father's  partnership,  that  had  made  him — what  Ram 
sey  saw. 

The  tale  was  fondly  told  and  had  made  Hugh  feel 
very  homespun  compared  with  such  progenitors.  But 
Ramsey  had  looked  him  up  and  down  as  if  he  must 
have  all  his  forebears'  beautiful  values  deep  hid  some 
where  in  his  inside  pockets,  and  had  wondered,  as  she 
tossed  away  to  the  pilot-house,  if  he  was  destined  ever 
to  show  the  father's  special  gift  of  winning  and  hold 
ing  the  strongest  and  best  men's  allegiance.  A  very 
mature  thought  for  her,  but  she  sometimes  had  such, 
and  had  once  heard  her  father  frankly  confess  that 
therein  lay  the  Courteneys'  largest  advantage  over 
him,  he  being  signally  able  to  rule  the  rudest  men  by  a 
more  formidable  rudeness,  but  not  to  command  the 
devotion  of  men  superior  to  that  sort  of  rule. 

At  length  the  stars  of  midnight  hung  overhead. 
The  amber  haze  of  Queen  Berenice's  hair  glimmered  to 
westward.  Where  the  river  had  so  writhed  round  on 
itself  as  to  be  sweeping  northeastward,  the  Votaress, 
midway  of  a  short  "crossing"  from  left  shore  to  right, 
was  pointing  southwest.  An  old  moon,  fairly  up,  was 
on  the  larboard  quarter,  and  in  the  nearest  bend 
down-stream  the  faint  lights  of  a  boat  recently  out 
stripped  were  just  being  quenched  by  the  low  black  wil 
lows  of  an  island.  In  the  bend  above  shone  the  dim 
but  brightening  stern  lights  of  the  foremost  and  speed 
iest  of  the  five-o'clock  fleet.  A  lonely  wooded  poi-nt 

58 


FIRST  NIGHT-WATCH 

beneath  the  brown  sand  of  whose  crumbling  water's 
edge  the  poor  German  home-seeker  had  found  the 
home  he  least  sought  lay  miles  behind;  miles  by  the 
long  bends  of  the  river,  miles  even  strai,  :ht  overland, 
and  lost  in  the  night  among  the  famed  sugar  estates 
that  occupied  in  unbroken  succession  College  Point 
and  Grandview  Reach,  Willow  Bend,  Bell's  Point,  and 
Bonnet  Carre.  Past  was  Donaldsonville,  at  the  mouth 
of  Bayou  Lafourche,  and  yonder  ahead,  that  boat  just 
entering  Bayagoula  Bend,  and  which  the  Votaress  was 
so  prettily  overhauling,  was  the  Antelope. 

"Fast  time,"  ventured  the  watchman  to  the  first 
mate. 

"Yes,  fast  enough  for  a  start." 

No  word  from  either  as  to  any  trouble  aboard. 

A  cub  pilot  risked  a  remark  to  his  chief:  "' — Chase 
the  antelope  over  the  plain,'  says  the  song,  but  I 
reckon  we  won't  quite  do  that,  sir." 

No,  they  wouldn't  quite  do  that.  Not  a  breath  as 
to  any  unfortunate  conditions  anywhere.  But  on  every 
deck,  wherever  equals  met,  the  fearful  plight  of  the 
queer  folk  down  nearest  the  water  was  softly  debated. 
Distressing  to  feminine  sympathy  was  the  necessity  of 
instant  burials,  first  revealed  up-stairs  by  that  wom 
an's  cry  of  agony  down  on  the  lower  gangway.  But 
masculine  nerve  explained  that  such  promptness  would 
save  lives  and  might  confine  the  disease  to  the  lower 
deck.  Was  no  physician  on  the  boat?  No,  one  would 
be  taken  aboard  in  the  morning.  Of  course  you  could 
ask  to  be  set  ashore,  but,  all  things  considered,  to 

59 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

stay  seemed  wiser.  Where  was  Madame  Hayle?  Few 
passengers  knew,  none  of  the  boat's  "family"  chose 
to  tell,  and  at  bedtime  the  majority  "retired."  So 
much  for  tl  e  surface  of  things. 

But  beneath  the  surface — "Good  God,  sir!  if  any 
one  is  to  go  ashore,  why  shouldn't  it  be  they — the 
foreigners?" 

For  the  full  bearing  of  this  speech  let  us  recount 
certain  doings  in  this  first  half  of  the  night.  The 
Hayle  twins,  coming  aboard  at  "Post  Forty-Six,"  had 
begun,  by  the  time  the  boat  backed  away,  to  offer  ex 
changes  of  courtesy  with  such  men  on  the  boiler  deck 
as  seemed  best  worth  while,  and  this  they  kept  up  with 
an  address  which,  despite  their  obvious  juleps,  unfail 
ingly  won  them  attention.  Even  a  Methodist  bishop, 
who  "knew  their  father  and  had  known  his  father, 
both  stanch  Methodists,"  was  unstintedly  cordial.  No 
less  so  was  a  senator. 

"Know  Gideon  Hayle?"  He  had  "known  him  be 
fore  they  had !  Hoped  to  know  him  yet  when  his  sons 
should  be  commodores."  Was  on  the  Chevalier  when 
the  Chevalier  outran  the  Quakeress.  One  twin  heard 
the  tale  while  the  other  brought  the  bishop. 

"Senator,  you  already  know  Bishop  So-and-So?" 

"Senator,  we'd  like  you  to  know  Judge  So-and-So, 
sir." 

Judge,  senator,  and  bishop  were  pleased.  The  sena 
tor  reminded  the  judge  that  they  had  met  years  before 
for  a  touch-and-go  moment  as  one  was  leaving  and  the 
other  boarding  the  Autocrat — or  was  it  the  Admiral? 

60 


FIRST  NIGHT-WATCH 

— a  Hayle  boat  at  any  rate — how  time  does  fly!  The 
brothers  took  but  a  light  part  in  the  chat  and  were 
much  too  wise  to  betray  any  degree  of  social  zeal. 
Each  new  introduction  was  as  casual  as  the  one  before 
it.  Sometimes  they  were  themselves  introduced  but 
only  those  here  named  stayed  in  the  set.  Chairs  were 
found  for  four,  and  Julian,  stepping  aside  for  a  fifth 
chair,  came  upon  another  worthy,  as  well  juleped  as 
himself  and  carrying  his  deck  load  quite  as  evenly. 

"Bishop  So-and-So,  this  is  our  father's  boyhood 
friend,  General  So-and-So.  Judge  So-and-So — Sen 
ator  So-and-So — you  both  know  the  general?"  The 
general  accepted  Lucian's  chair,  and  presently  Lucian, 
with  two  more  chairs,  brought  one  more  personage,  tall 
and  solemn. 

"Senator,  have  you  never  met  Squire  So-and-So? " 
The  senator  had  long  wished  to  do  so,  the  judge  was 
well  acquainted,  the  general  shook  hands  grandly,  and 
the  bishop  blithely  said  the  squire  had  the  largest 
plantation  on  the  Yazoo  River.  The  squire  was  too 
thirsty  to  smile  but  said  he  hoped  the  bishop  would 
not  feel  above  joining  the  others  as  his  guest  at  the  bar. 
The  bishop  declined,  but  kept  the  seats  of  all  till  their 
return.  They  came  back  talking  politics,  having  found 
themselves  of  one  democratic  mind,  southwestern  va 
riety,  and  able  to  discuss  with  quiet  dignity  their  mi 
nor  differences  of  view  on  a  number  of  then  burning 
questions  now  long  burned  out  with  the  men  who 
kindled  them:  Webster,  Fillmore,  Scott,  Seward,  Clay, 
Cass,  Douglas,  Garrison,  Davis,  and  others. 

61 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

By  and  by,  without  a  break  in  the  discussion,  the 
seven  walked  back  into  the  cabin  and  stood  where, 
on  the  first  tap  of  the  supper  bell,  each  could  snatch  a 
seat  near  the  upper  end  of  the  table  and  so  collectively 
assume  among  the  hundreds  on  the  boat  that  separate 
and  superior  station  to  which  the  laws  of  nature  and 
nature's  God  entitled  them.  The  squire  had  his  moth 
erless  children  aboard  but  could  leave  them  to  a  sister 
and  brother-in-law.  Which  reminded  the  twins  to 
look  after  their  sister,  on  the  roof,  as  hereinbefore  set 
forth.  But  both  the  bishop  and  the  senator  were 
thoughtful  for  them  and  when  they  came  tardily  to  the 
board  they  found  the  group  close  about  the  old  com 
modore,  their  own  places  saved  and  the  judge  and  the 
general  sustaining  the  squire's  rather  peppery  asser 
tion  to  the  courteous  but  vilely  unconvincible  com 
modore,  that  certain  new  laws  of  Congress  must  be 
upheld  with  all  the  national  power,  Yankee  mobs  be 
squarely  shot  into  and  their  leaders  hanged,  or  the 
Federal  Union  would  not  long  be  worth  a  rap. 

The  senator  had  almost  thought  of  something  tact 
ful  to  say  and  the  bishop  had  just  the  right  word  on  the 
end  of  his  tongue,  when  Julian,  with  very  good  man 
ners  in  a  very  bad  manner,  asked  leave  to  speak,  and 
the  squire,  ignoring  the  commodore,  said:  "Certainly, 
Mr.  Hayle,  sir,  do!" 

"One  thing  to  be  stopped  at  all  cost,"  said  Mr. 
Hayle,  "is  this  deluge  of  immigration.  Every  alien 
who  comes  to  New  Orleans,  and  especially  every  alien 
who  passes  on  up  this  river  into  the  West,  strengthens 

62 


FIRST  NIGHT-WATCH 

the  North  and  weakens  the  South  commercially,  in 
dustrially,  and  politically,  and  corrupts  the  national 
type,  the  national  speech — 

"The  national  religion,"-   —  prompted  the  bishop. 

"The  national  love  of  law  and  order," said  the 

judge. 

"And  of  justice  and  liberty,"-    -  put  in  the  general. 

"And  the  national  health,"  said  the  youth.  "New 
Orleans  should  refuse  every  immigrant  entrance  to  the 
country,  and  every  steamboat  on  the  Mississippi  ought 
to  decline  to  carry  him  to  his  destination!" 

The  commodore  smiled  to  reply,  but  the  senator 
broke  in  with  an  anecdote,  long  but  good,  of  a  newly 
landed  German.  The  judge  followed  close  with  the 
story  of  a  very  green  Irishman;  and  the  general,  with 
mellow  inconsequence,  brought  in  a  tale  to  the  credit 
of  the  departed  Jackson  and  debit  of  the  still  surviving 
Clay.  A  new  sultriness  prevailed.  The  judge's  pal 
liative  word,  that  many  a  story  hard  on  Clay  was 
older  than  Clay  himself,  relieved  the  tension  scarcely 
more  than  did  Lucian's  inquiry  whether  it  was  not,  at 
any  rate,  true  beyond  cavil  that  Clay  had  treated 
Jackson  perfidiously  in  that  old  matter 

That  old  matter's  extreme  deadness  reminded  the 
group  that  the  repast  was  over  and  Whiggism  amply 
squelched.  Besides  themselves  only  the  ladies'-cabin 
people  and  the  captain,  away  aft,  lingered.  The  long, 
intervening  double  line  of  mere  feeders  was  gone  and 
the  cabin-boys  were  setting  the  second  table.  The 
commodore  rose  and  the  seven  drifted  out  again,  with 

63 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

their  seven  toothpicks,  to  the  boiler  deck.  There  men 
who  had  passed  the  salt  to  each  other  at  table  were 
giving  each  other  cigars,  some  standing  in  knots,  others 
taking  chairs  about  the  guards.  Almost  every  one  had 
related  himself  to  some  other  one  or  more  as  somehow 
his  or  their  guest  and  host  combined,  and  had  taken 
his  turn  or  was  watching  his  chance  to  recognize  the 
captain  as  social  and  civil  autocrat  and  guardian  an 
gel  over  all.  The  conspicuousness  of  the  twins  led  to 
stories,  in  undertone,  of  the  long  Hayle-Courteney 
rivalry. 

"Remarkable,  how  it's  run  on  and  on  without  their 
ever  locking  horns,  eh?" 

"Mighty  nigh  did  it  when  the  Quakeress  burned." 

"Oh!  do  you  really  think  so?" 

"I  know  it,  sir!"  He  who  knew  spat  over  the  rail, 
and  the  one  who  had  dared  to  doubt  moved  on.  Be 
tween  stories  there  were  debates  on  the  comparative 
merits  of  the  two  types  of  hull  favored  respectively  by 
the  rival  builders:  the  slim  Hayle  model  and  the  not 
so  slim  of  the  Courteneys. 

"After  all,  sir,"  asserted  a  man  of  eagle  eye,  "a  duck 
flies  faster  than  a  crane." 

"I  doubt  that,  sir,"  said  one  with  the  eye  of  a  stal 
lion.  "Not  that  I  question  your  word,  but— 

Their  friends  had  to  separate  them. 

At  that  point  along  came  the  Empress,  as  we  know,  a 
sight  only  less  inspiring  on  this  deck  than  to  Ramsey 
on  the  roof;  shining,  saluting,  huzzaing,  then  fading 
round  the  bend.  When  the  card-tables  were  set  out 

64 


FIRST  NIGHT-WATCH 

our  group  of  seven  fell  into  three  parts.  The  squire 
and  the  general  sat  down  to  a  game  with  a  Vicksburg 
merchant  and  a  Milliken's  Bend  planter,  who  "  couldn't 
play  late,"  their  wives  being  on  the  boat.  The  twins, 
ceasing  to  tell  the  senator  and  the  bishop  what  dam 
nable  things  some  boats  were  known  to  have  done  for 
the  sake  of  speed,  went  down-stairs  to  take  a  glance 
at  the  safety-valve,  following  a  few  steps  behind  the 
captain.  For  him  they  had  just  seen,  as  he  came  down 
from  the  roof  to  their  deck  and  met  an  unexpected 
messenger  from  the  engine-room,  promptly  turn  with 
him  and  go  below.  But  their  needless  glance  at  the 
safety-valve  they  never  took.  They  saw  only  two  or 
three  poor  women  sobbing  like  babes,  the  dead  body  of 
a  young  man  being  prepared  for  burial,  and  the  car 
penter  finishing  his  coffin.  When  the  captain,  as  will 
be  remembered,  went  back  to  the  hurricane-deck  to 
tell  their  mother,  they  went  too. 

The  boat's  torches  enabled  all  on  the  various  decks 
to  view  the  burial.  It  ended  the  game  of  cards. 
During  the  swift  ceremony  and  long  after  it  the  twins 
consulted  the  squire,  the  general,  the  Vicksburger,  the 
senator,  the  bishop,  the  judge,  and  the  planter  from 
Milliken's  Bend  as  to  what  ought  to  be  done.  They 
took  care  to  advance  their  questions  and  suggestions 
singly  and  according  to  the  nature  of  each  hearer's 
inflammability,  and  as  each  one  kindled  they  brought 
him  close  to  another,  Julian  always  supplying  the 
hardihood,  Lucian  the  guile.  Here  were  men,  they 
said,  and  soon  had  others  saying — the  squire  to  the 

65 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

merchant,  the  general  to  the  Milliken's  Bend  planter — 
here  were  men,  gentlemen,  scores  on  scores,  not  to  say 
hundreds,  who  at  all  times  and  everywhere  could  take 
the  chances  of  life  like  men,  like  gentlemen,  native 
American  gentlemen.  But  here  also  were  women  and 
children,  the  families  of  many  of  these  gentlemen. 
Such  risks  were  not  for  such  women  and  children.  Was 
no  step  to  be  generally  agreed  upon?  Was  it  to  be 
supinely  assumed  that  the  owners  of  the  Votaress,  now 
mainly  preoccupied  in  overhauling  the  Antelope,  knew 
all  that  was  best  to  do  and  would  punctually  do  it  all? 
The  twins  did  not  originate  half  the  inquiries  or 
replies,  they  merely  started  the  ferment  and  kept  it 
working.  "You  saw  at  table,  did  you  not,  the  posi 
tive  contempt  the  commodore — who  is  a  foreigner  him 
self — showed  for  the  direst  needs  of  our  country?" 
To  be  sure  that  had  little  to  do  with  the  management 
of  the  boat,  but  it  made  it  easier  to  think  that  the 
Courteneys,  the  captain  himself  being  half  Dutch  in 
his  origin,  might  incline  to  do  more  for  those  people 
down-stairs  than  was  just  to  those  above  them — every 
way  above  them.  The  general  called  it  a  criminal 
error  to  plant  the  victims  of  a  deadly  contagion  along 
a  great  national  highway,  like  fertile  seed  in  a  fertile 
furrow.  The  bishop  counted  it  no  mercy  to  the  aliens 
themselves  to  keep  them  aboard  when  they  could  be 
set  ashore  in  a  rough  sort  of  roofless  quarantine  on 
some  such  isolated  spot  as  Prophet's  Island,  which 
should  be  reached  by  sunrise,  was  heavily  wooded,  and 
lay  but  six  miles  below  the  small  town  of  Port  Hudson. 

66 


FIRST  NIGHT-WATCH 

Nor  could  he  call  it  a  mercy  to  consult  the  immigrants' 
wishes.  How  could  they  be  expected  to  view  the  mat 
ter  unselfishly? 

A  deputation  of  seven  elected  itself  to  wait  on  the 
captain.  The  masterful  twins,  finding  themselves  not 
of  its  number,  sought  him  in  advance,  alone.  But 
their  interview  was  brief.  We  pass  it.  The  first 
watch  turned  in.  The  men  who  had  served  through 
the  first  two  hours'  run  came  again  on  duty  as  "  mid 
dle  watch,"  and  in  their  care,  after  their  four  hours' 
rest,  the  shining  Votaress,  teeming  with  slumberers, 
breasted  the  strenuous  flood  as  regally  as  ever. 


67 


XII 
HUGH  AND  THE  TWINS 

IN  the  captain's  chair,  between  the  derricks  and  the 
bell,  far  above  and  behind  which  the  chimneys'  vast 
double  plume  of  smoke  and  sparks  trailed  down  the 
steamer's  wake,  sat  Hugh  Courteney,  quite  uncom- 
panioned. 

So  his  father  had  just  left  him,  leaving  with  him  the 
thought,  though  without  hint  of  it  in  word  or  tone, 
that  some  night,  on  some  boat  as  deeply  freighted  with 
cares  as  this  one,  he  must  sit  thus,  her  master.  The 
wonder  of  it,  with  the  wonder  of  the  boat  herself  and 
all  she  carried,  sounded  a  continuous  stern  alarum 
through  his  spirit  like  a  long  roll  sounding  through  a 
camp:  "Be  a  man!  Make  haste!  See  even  those  Hayle 
twins,  with  all  their  faults,  and  up !  Make  haste !  Rise 
up  and  be  a  man!"  Had  the  wonder-loving  Ramsey 
been  there  she  must  have  laughed  again;  looking  into 
his  round,  heavy  visage  was  so  much  like  looking  into 
the  back  of  a  watch — one  saw  such  ceaseless  movement 
of  mind  yet  learned  so  little  from  it.  Amid  his  won- 
derings  he  wondered  of  her;  not  only  where  at  that 
moment  she  might  be,  but  what  a  child  she  still  was, 
and  yet  in  how  few  years — as  few  as  two  or  three — 
she  would  be  a  woman,  might  be  a  bride. 

68 


HUGH  AND  THE  TWINS 

But  soon  a  bride  or  never,  the  boat  was  full  of  mat 
ters  only  less  remarkable  and  he  gently  let  the  girl  out 
of  his  thought  by  looking  behind  him.  The  windows 
of  the  captain's  room — between  the  chimneys — front 
room  of  the  texas — gave  shining  evidence  that  some 
where  the  captain  was  yet  astir.  From  the  rayless 
pilot-house  above  it  faint  notes  of  speech  showed  that 
some  one  was  up  there  with  the  pilot,  but  at  the  same 
time  a  near-by  tread  drew  Hugh  to  his  feet  with  quick 
pleasure  and  again  his  father  stood  before  him,  look 
ing  at  the  lights  of  the  Antelope,  a  few  hundred  yards 
ahead. 

"She'll  soon  be  astern,"  said  Hugh. 

"We  can't  keep  her  so,"  replied  the  captain,  accept 
ing  his  chair.  "We  must  land  too  often.  Where's 
your  crony?" 

"The  commodore?  He's  turned  in."  After  a  pause 
— "Father,  you've  shipped  a  lot  of  trouble." 

"Yes,"  was  the  light  response,  "counting  Hayle's 
twins." 

"  I  wish  you'd  give  me  full  charge  of  them." 

"Do  you?"  laughed  the  father.  "Take  it.  You 
hear  them,  don't  you?  " 

They  were  easy  to  hear,  down  on  the  forward  freight 
deck,  dancing  round  a  bottle  of  liquor,  and 

"Singing  'Gideon's  Band,'"  said  Hugh  listening. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  amused  captain,  "  after  pledging  me 
on  their  honor  to  go  straight  to  bed."  Hugh  started 
away  so  abruptly  that  his  father  asked:  "Where  are 
you  bound?" 

69 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"I'm  going  to  send  them  to  bed." 
"Both  of  them?"  smilingly  asked  the  captain. 
"Yes,  both." 
"Not  both  at  once?" 

"Yes,  both  at  once.  Do  you  know  where  their  sis 
ter  is?" 

"Why,  abed  and  asleep  long  ago,  is  she  not?" 
"I  don't  know,"  said  Hugh,  going;  "I  doubt  it." 
On  his  way  he  glanced  about  for  her.  Taking 
charge  of  the  twins  seemed  logically  to  involve  a  care 
of  her.  Where  the  mother  was  he  knew.  Down  in  the 
after  parts  of  the  lower  deck,  between  the  ceaseless  tor 
rents  of  the  wheels,  most  of  the  people  from  overseas 
had  spread  their  beds  wherever  they  might,  while  in 
one  small  place  apart  some  five  or  six  lay  smitten  with 
the  deadly  contagion,  two  or  three  in  agony,  one  or  two 
in  painless  collapse,  under  the  unskilled,  heartbroken 
care  of  a  few  terrified  kindred.  There,  by  stealth  at 
first  and  by  the  captain's  helpless  leave  when  he  found 
her  there,  attended  by  a  colored  man  and  maid  from 
the  cabin  service,  was  Madame  Hayle,  ministering,  now 
with  medicine,  now  with  the  crucifix,  amid  the  ham 
mer's  unflagging  din.  To  this  Hugh  was  reconciled; 
but  it  would  never,  never  do,  he  felt,  to  let  the  daughter 
share  such  an  experience.  Better  to  find  her,  even  at 
that  hour,  on  the  boiler  deck. 

But  on  the  boiler  deck  he  found  only  its  wide  semi 
circle  of  chairs  quite  empty  and  no  one  moving  among 
the  high  piles  of  trunks  and  light  freight  under  the 
hanging  bunches  of  pineapples  and  bananas.  He  looked 

70 


HUGH  AND  THE  TWINS 

into  the  saloon.  It  was  bright  though  with  half  its 
lamps  cold,  but  the  barber's  shop  and  the  clerk's  office 
were  shut,  and  double  curtains  of  silk  and  wool  clois 
tered  off  the  ladies'  cabin.  The  fragrant  bar  stood 
open,  and  at  two  or  three  card-tables  sat  heavy-betting, 
hard-chewing  quartets,  but  no  one  else  was  to  be  seen; 
even  the  third  Hayle  brother  had  gone  to  bed.  Half 
way  down  the  double  front  stairs  to  the  lower  deck,  on 
a  landing  where  the  two  flights  merged  into  one,  Hugh 
paused.  All  about  beneath  him  forward  of  the  wheels, 
clear  out  to  the  capstan  and  jack-staff,  slept  the  deck 
hands,  except  a  few  on  watch,  a  few  more  who  with 
eager  crouchings,  snapping  fingers,  and  soft  cries  gam 
bled  at  dice  in  the  red  glare  of  the  furnaces,  and  one 
who  had  become  an  amused  onlooker  of  the  Hayle 
twins — the  negro  who,  six  hours  before,  by  merely  put 
ting  out  a  hand  had  saved  their  sister's  life. 

And  there,  close  before  Hugh,  at  the  stairs'  foot, 
under  the  open  sky,  were  the  twins.  In  their  hunger 
for  notice,  their  equal  disdain  of  the  captain  and  the 
deputation  of  seven,  and  their  belief  that  the  gayest 
defiance  of  the  plague  was  its  best  preventive,  they  had 
set  their  bottle  on  the  deck  and  in  opposite  directions 
were  daintily  pacing  round  it  in  a  long  ellipse  and 
chanting  to  a  camp-meeting  tune  their  song  of  Gideon : 

"O,  Noah,  he  did  build  de  ahk, 
O,  Noah,  he  did  build  de  ahk, 
O,  Noah,  he  did  build  de  ahk, 
An'  shingle  it  wid  cinnamon  bahk. 
Do  you  belong  to  Gideon's  band? 

71 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Here's  my  heart  an'  here's  my  hand! 
Do  you  belong  to  Gideon's  band? 
Fight'n'fo'yo'home!"* 

A  glance  at  Hugh  gave  them  new  life.  Singing  on, 
they  halted  at  opposite  ends  of  the  beat,  patted  thighs, 
called  figures,  leaped  high,  crossed  shins,  cracked  heels, 
cut  double-shuffles,  balanced,  swung  round  the  bottle, 
lifted  it,  drank,  replaced  it,  and  resumed  their  elliptical 
march  to  another  stanza: 

"He  couldn't  tote  de  whole  worl'  breed, 

He  couldn't  tote  de  whole  worl'  breed, 

He  couldn't  tote  de  whole  worP  breed, 

He  los'  de  crap,  but  he  save'  de  seed! 

Do  you  belong  to  Gideon's  band? 

Fight'n'  fo'  yo'  home!" 

Hugh  moved  on  down.  "  Both  at  once,"  he  had  said, 
but  on  every  account — their  mother's,  her  daughter's, 
his  father's — it  must  be  both  at  once  without  a  high 


Do  you  be-long    — 


fe=^p*=r^=F    «E  J.  J  jb  j   3=fl 

_s^ 4-! ^UU[^     jl   fcg  *  ^     «*  »^y  J     ^=H 

72 


HUGH  AND  THE  TWINS 

word  from  him.  On  the  bottom  step  he  was  about  to 
speak,  when  a  tall,  flaxen-haired  German  in  big  boots 
and  green  cap  and  coat,  meek  of  brow  and  barely  a 
year  or  two  his  senior,  came  out  from  behind  the  stair 
and  stepped  between  the  dancers,  silent  but  with  a 
hand  lifted  to  one  and  then  to  the  other. 

"No,"  said  Hugh  to  him.  The  alien's  meekness 
vanished.  He  motioned  toward  the  sick.  His  blue 
eyes  flashed.  But  in  the  same  instant  he  was  jolted 
half  off  his  feet  by  the  lunging  shoulder  of  one  of  the 
Hayles  marching  to  the  refrain: 

"Do  you  belong  to  Gideon's  band?" 

His  answer  was  a  blow  so  swift  that  Hugh  barely 
saw  it.  The  singer  fell  as  if  he  had  slipped  on  ice. 
Yet  promptly  he  was  up  again,  and  from  right  and 
left  the  brothers  leaped  at  their  foe.  But  while  men 
rushed  in  and  hustled  the  immigrant  aft  the  negro 
who  had  saved  Ramsey  caught  one  twin  as  lightly  as 
he  had  caught  her,  and  Hugh,  jerking  the  other  to  his 
knees,  snatched  up  the  bottle  and  whirled  it  overboard. 
A  moment  later  he  found  himself  backing  up-stairs,  fol 
lowed  closely  by  the  pair.  These  were  being  pushed 
up  from  below  by  others,  and,  in  lofty  phrases  hot  with 
oaths,  were  accusing  all  Courteneys  of  a  studied  plan 
to  insult,  misguide,  imperil,  assault,  and  humiliate  ev 
ery  Hayle  within  reach  and  of  a  cowardly  use  of  deck 
hands  and  Dutchmen  for  the  purpose. 

His  replies  were  in  undertone :  "  Come  up !  Hush  your 
noise,  your  mother'll  hear  you !  Come  on !  Come  up ! " 

73 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

On  the  boiler  deck  they  halted.  The  crowd  filled  the 
stair  beneath  and  he  marvelled  once  more  as  he  gazed 
on  the  two  young  Hectors,  who,  true  to  their  ideals 
and  loathing  the  obliquities  of  a  moral  world  that  left 
them  off  deputations,  blazed  with  self-approval  in  a 
plight  whose  shame  burned  through  him,  Hugh  Cour- 
teney,  by  sheer  radiation. 

"And  as  sure,"  said  Julian,  "as  sure  as  hell,  sir,  your 
life's  blood  or  that  of  your  kin  shall  one  day  pay  for 
this!  To-night  we  are  helpless.  What  is  your  wish?" 

"My  father's  wish  is  that  you  go  to  your  state 
room  and  berths  and  keep  your  word  of  honor  given 
to  him." 

"That,  sir,  is  what  we  were  doing  when  a  hired 
ruffian " 

"Never  mind  the  hired  ruffian.   Charge  that  to  me." 

"Oh,  sir,  it  is  charged!"  said  the  two.  "And  the 
charge  will  be  collected!"  They  went  their  way. 


74 


XIII 
THE  SUPERABOUNDING  RAMSEY 

IN  his  hurricane-deck  chair,  with  eyes  out  ahead  on 
the  water,  John  Courteney  gently  took  his  son's  hand 
as  the  latter,  returning  to  his  side,  stood  without  a 
word. 

"Tucked  in,  are  they,  both  of  them?" 

No  reply. 

"Hugh,  I  hear  certain  gentlemen  are  coming  to  ask 
me  to  put  our  deck  passengers  ashore." 

"You  can't  do  it,  sir." 

"Would  you  like  to  tell  them  so?" 

"I'd  like  nothing  better." 

"Now  that  you've  tasted  blood,  eh?" 

No  reply. 

"  It  wouldn't  be  a  mere  putting  of  bad  boys  to  bed, 
my  son.  It  would  be  David  and  Goliath,  with  Goliath 
in  the  plural." 

"Can't  I  pass  them  on  to  you  if  I  find  I  must?" 

"Of  course  you  can.  Hugh,  I'm  tempted  to  try 
you." 

"I  wish  you  would,  sir." 

"  With  no  coaching?    No '  Polonius  to  the  players' ? ' ' 

"I  wish  you  would." 

75 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

The  father  looked  into  the  sky.  "Superb  night," 
he  said. 

Again  no  reply. 

"  Were  you  not  deep  in  the  spell  of  it  when  I  found 
you  here  awhile  ago?" 

"Yes,  I  was." 

"  My  son,  I  covet  your  better  acquaintance." 

"You  mean  I — say  so  little?" 

"You  reveal  yourself  so  little.  Even  your  mother 
felt  that,  Hugh." 

"I  know  it,  father.     And  yet,  as  for  you " 

"Yes— as  for  me ?" 

"I've  never  seen  you  without  wanting  to  tell  out 
all  that's  in  me."  The  pair  smiled  to  each  other. 

"And  you  say  that  at  last,  now,  you  can  do  it?" 

"Did  I  say  that,  sir?" 

"  Not  in  words.  But  you  seem  all  at  once  to  be  see 
ing  things — taking  hold  of  things — in  a  new  way." 

"  The  things  themselves  are  new,  sir.  They're  small, 
but — somehow — they've  helped  me  on." 

"Couldn't  I  guess  one  of  them?" 

"I  hardly  think  so,  sir;  they're  really  such  trifles." 

"Well,  for  a  first  attempt,  Ramsey." 

"Yes.     How  did  you  guess  that?" 

"She's  such  a  persuasive  example  of  perfect  open 
ness." 

"Her  mother's  a  much  lovelier  one." 

"No,  Hugh;  allowing  for  years,  Miss  Ramsey's  even 
a  better.  But — another  small  thing — shall  I  mention 
it?" 

76 


THE  SUPERABOUNDING  RAMSEY 

"Yes,  please." 

"All  these  Hayles,  to-night,  bring  up  the  past — 
ours." 

"Yes!"  said  Hugh,  and  said  no  more,  as  if  the  re 
mark  had  partly  unlocked  something  and  then  stuck 
fast. 

The  questioner  tried  a  smaller  key.  "What  were 
you  thinking,"  he  asked,  "when  I  joined  you  here 
to-night?" 

"  When  you — ?    Oh,  nothing  we're  thinking  of  now." 

"At  the  same  time,  what  was  it?" 

"Why — something  rather  too  fanciful  to  put  into 
words." 

"All  the  same,  let's  have  it." 

"Well,  for  one  thing,  seeing  and  feeling  this  boat, 
with  all  its  light  and  life,  speeding,  twinkling  on 
and  on  through  the  night  like  a  swarm  of  stars,  the 
thought  came — and  I  was  wishing  I  could  share  it  with 
you-  -" 

The  elder  hand  pressed  the  younger. 

"The  thought  that  since  infinite  space—"  The 
thought  seemed  to  stall,  take  breath,  and  start  again — 
"since  infinite  space  is  lighted  only  by  the  stars,  the 
rush  and  roll  of  this  universe  through  space  is  forever 
and  ever — in  the  large — a  night  scene — an  eternal  star 
light.  Is  that  absurd — to  you?" 

The  father  smiled:  "Why,  no.  I  merely — doubt  it. 
All  starlight  is  sunlight — near  enough  by." 

"Yes.  But  between  stars  there  is  no  near-by,  is 
there?" 

77 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"That  depends  on  who's  looking,  I  think.  We 
mustn't  impute  human  eyes  to  God — or  angels — or 
saints.  You  remember  the  word:  *  Darkness  and  light 
are  both  alike  to  thee'?" 

"Yes,"  pensively  said  Hugh,  rejoicing  in  this  con 
verse  yet  wondering  why  it  made  him  feel  so  childish 
to  speak  his  best  while  Hayle's  twins  showed  up  in  so 
manly  a  fashion  when  they  spoke  their  worst.  "Yes, 
I  thought  of  that,  too.  Yet  I  was  glad  to  believe  there 
will  always  be  plenty  of  starlight  for  those  who  love 
it- 

"Wow!"  yelled  Ramsey  in  his  ear. 

With  a  gulp  he  whirled  and  faced  her  where,  limp 
with  laughter,  she  hung  and  swung  on  the  captain's 
chair.  Its  occupant  quietly  rose.  The  old  nurse  wrung 
her  hands,  and  Ramsey,  in  an  agony  of  mirth  and  dis 
may,  cringed  back  on  her.  Suddenly  the  maiden  stood 
at  her  best  height  and  with  elaborate  graciousness 
said: 

"I  hope  I  haven't  interrupted!" 

The  father's  hand  appeasingly  touched  the  son's 
while  playfully  he  said:  "You  have  a  hopeful  nature, 
Miss  Ramsey."  And  then,  as  her  disconcerted  eyes 
widened,  he  asked:  "Where  did  you  come  from  just 
now?" 

He  saw  that  if  she  spoke  she  must  weep.  Instead 
she  jauntily  waved  a  whole  arm  backward  and  upward 
to  the  pilot-house.  Then,  her  self-command  return 
ing,  she  remarked,  for  Hugh  in  particular:  "It's  nice 
up  there.  They  don't  snub  you."  She  twitched  a 

78 


THE  SUPERABOUNDING  RAMSEY 

shoulder  at  him,  made  eyes  to  his  father,  and  once 
more  tinkled  her  laugh,  interiorly,  as  though  it  were  a 
door-bell. 

The  captain  was  amused,  yet  he  gravely  began  to 
ask:  "  Does  your  mother ?" 

"Know  I'm  out?  She  doth.  First  time  I've  been  out 
o'  bed  this  late  in  all  my  long  and  checkered  career." 

"If  she  does,  Miss  Ramsey,  will  you  go  up  to  the 
pilot  once  more  and  tell  him  to  land  the  boat  at  the 
wood-yard  just  this  side  of  Bonnabel  plantation?" 

Her  mouth  fell  open :  "  Who,  me?  Tell  the—? "  She 
swept  the  strategist  with  a  quick,  hurt  glance,  but 
beamed  again  beneath  his  kind  eyes.  "I  get  your 
idea"  she  said,  snatched  the  nurse's  arm,  and  hurried 
off  with  her,  humming  and  tripping  the  song  she  had 
quoted. 

The  captain  looked  again  into  "  infinite  space."  The 
wide  scene  was  shifting.  High  beyond  the  Votaress's 
bow  the  stars  of  the  west  swung  as  if  they  shifted  south 
ward.  The  moon  crossed  her  silvering  wake  from  lar 
board  quarter  to  starboard.  The  Antelope  shone  close 
ahead.  "To  me,  Hugh,"  he  lightly  resumed,  "this 
boat,  full  of  all  sorts  of  people,  isn't  so  much  like  your 
swarm  of  stars  as  it  is  like  just  one  little  whole  world." 

"Yes,"  said  the  son,  facing  him  sidewise  so  that  no 
Ramsey  might  again  surprise  them:  "I  see  it  that  way 
too.  Father" — the  father  had  stirred  as  if  to  leave 
him — "  I  want  to  tell  you  some  things  about  our  past. 
But  I  can't  tell  them  piecemeal.  I  must  find  some 
time  when  you're  off  watch." 

79 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"  And  when  Miss  Ramsey's  asleep?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Why  have  you  never  told  me  before?  " 

"I've  tried  for  years.  The  power  wasn't  in  me. 
I've  had  to  grow  up  to  it.  But,  as  you  say,  'now,  at 
last/  I  can  do  it." 

The  captain  turned  away  and  looked  up  to  the  dim 
pilot-house.  Out  of  it  came  the  tranquil  voice  of  the 
pilot  who  earlier  had  talked  with  the  twins:  "Caving 
bank  above  has  planted  snags  at  that  wood-yard,  sir. 
Whippoorwill  Ferry's  a  better  landing,  on  t'other  side, 
head  o'  the  crossing." 

"Well,  Mr.  Watson,  land  there." 

The  boat  was  sweeping  close  by  the  west-shore  vil 
lage  of  Bayagoula,  that  lay  asleep  where  the  stream  for 
a  brief  space  widened  to  a  mile.  Her  veering  jack-staff 
hid  the  north  star  a  moment,  then  crept  to  right  of  it 
and  pointed  up  a  five-mile  reach  of  dim  waters  and 
dimmer  shores,  hard  on  the  heels  of  the  panting  An 
telope.  But  the  captain's  eye  lingered  behind  and 
above  him.  Between  him  and  the  pilot-house,  softly 
veiled  by  its  moonlight  shadow,  stood  in  unconscious 
statuesqueness  on  the  front  overhang  of  the  texas  roof, 
between  the  towering  chimneys,  Ramsey. 

Her  rippling  curls  and  slim  shoulders  stood  above  the 
shade  that  enveloped  the  rest  of  her  form  and  showed 
dark  against  the  feeble  light  of  the  moon  at  her  back. 
As  he  looked  she  uttered  a  droll  sound — fair  counterfeit 
of  the  harsh  note  a  mocking-bird  speaks  to  himself 
before  his  nightly  outburst — and  then  broke  forth  in  a 

80 


THE  SUPERABOUNDING  RAMSEY 

voice  as  untrained,  but  as  fresh  and  joyous  and  as 
reckless  of  reproof  or  praise,  as  the  bird's: 

"'O,  the  lone,  starry  hours  give  me,  love, 
When  still  is  the  beautiful  night '" 

At  sight  of  a  second  and  third  figure  he  moved  that 
way,  while  below  the  singer's  feet  sounded  a  mother's 
moan:  "Ramsey!  mon  Dieu!  my  chile!  come  down 
from  yondeh!" 

The  girl's  eyes  stayed  in  the  sky,  but  one  mutinous 
foot  so  keenly  smote  the  roof  that  her  nurse,  approach 
ing  behind,  stopped  short,  and  from  Hugh  came  a 
laugh,  a  thin,  involuntary  treble,  which  caused  Ramsey 
visibly  to  flinch. 

"Ramsey!"  entreated  her  mother  again,  but 

"Just  this  one  moment,  beloved  mom-a!  Listen, 
oh,  listen,  everybody!  to  my  midnight  thought!"  The 
rhapsodist  struck  a  stiffer  pose  and  began  with  all  her 
voice,  "  Since  infinite  space  is  lighted  only  by  the  stars ! 
their  rush  and  roll — te  rum  te  riddle,  te  rum  te  ree " 

"Ramsey!" 

" — Is  an  eternal  starlight!"  The  girl  hugged  and 
kissed  her  black  nurse:  "Oh,  mammy  Joy!  is  that 
absurd  to  you?" 

"Ram-zee!"  cried  the  mother.  But  a  toll  of  the 
great  bell  silenced  her.  Another  solemnly  followed, 
and  when  a  third  completed  the  signal  to  land,  the 
staggering  footsteps  of  the  vanished  girl  dragging  old 
Joy  with  her  in  full  retreat  were  a  relief  to  every  ear. 

81 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

As  madame  turned  to  say  good  night  a  last  bleat  came 
out  of  the  darkness : 

"Please  don't,  anybody,  tell  about  the  Quakeress 
to-night!" 


82 


XIV 
THE  COMMITTEE  OF  SEVEN 

"HITHERTO/'  said  the  senator,  in  his  stateroom,  to 
the  bishop  and  the  judge,  "there  really  has  been  no 
need  to  take  any  assertive  step." 

He  was  explaining  his  slowness  as  head  of  the  depu 
tation  and  was  glad,  he  said,  to  have  a  word  apart  with 
these  two.  The  room  could  not  seat  seven  and  for  the 
moment  the  other  four  were  at  the  bar,  where  stand 
ing  was  so  much  easier  than  elsewhere. 

Their  business,  the  seven's,  he  added,  was  with  the 
captain,  and  officially  the  captain  had  gone  off  duty  at 
eight  o'clock  and  was  on  again  only  now,  at  midnight, 
in  the  "middle  watch."  Even  yet  there  need  be  no 
hurry;  what  they  wanted  done  could  not  be  done  before 
early  morning,  at  Prophet's  Island. 

The  bishop  approved.  "Don't  cross  the  bridge  till 
you  get  to  it,"  he  quoted. 

The  judge — whose  elderly  maiden  sister  was  aboard 
and  abed  but  awake  and  alarmed  and  amazed  and  as 
tounded  that  he  should  be  so  helpless — assented,  too, 
but  thought  there  was  now  no  call  for  further  delay; 
Prophet's  Island  was  nearer  every  moment  and  the 
sooner  "those  people"  were  well  ashore  the  safer — 
and  easier — for  everybody. 

83 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"I  was  giving  our  numbers  time  to  grow,"  remarked 
the  senator. 

"  And  the  cholera  time  to  spread?  "  queried  the  judge. 

"We're  but  a  small  minority  yet,"  persisted  the  sen 
ator. 

"A  minority  always  rules,"  smilingly  said  the  bishop. 

The  senator  smiled  back.  "There  are  two  or  three 
hundred  of  those  deck  passengers  alone,"  he  responded. 

"Senator,"  said  the  judge,  "what  of  that?  We've 
taken  upon  ourselves  to  speak  for  all  the  cabin  pas 
sengers  on  this  boat,  whether  as  yet  they  agree  with  us 
or  not.  They  are  as  numerous  as  those  foreigners,  sir, 
and,  my  God!  sir,  they  are  our  own  people.  Self-pres 
ervation  is  the  first  law!" 

"Oh,  surely  you  know,"  protested  the  senator,  "I'm 
with  you,  heart  and  soul!  We  must  extricate  these 
people  of  our  own  from  a  situation  whose  desperate- 
ness  most  of  them  do  not  recognize.  We'll  go  to  the 
captain  now,  as  soon  as — as  we  must.  But  let  us  agree 
right  here  that  whatever  we  require  him  to  do  we  also 
require  him  to  do  of  his  own  free  will.  He  must  shift 
no  responsibility  upon  us.  You  have,  of  your  sort, 
bishop,  a  constituency  quite  as  sensitive  as  the  judge's 
or  mine,  and  we  don't  want -to  give  any  one  a  chance 
to  start  a  false  story  which  we  might  find  it  difficult 
to  run  down.  And  so  we  can  hardly  be  too  careful " 

The  absent  four  had  returned  while  he  spoke.  "  Sir," 
interrupted  the  general,  whose  th's  were  getting  thick, 
"ththat  is  what  we  have  been — too  careful!" 

The  hearts  of  the  four  were  on  fire.  A  chance  word 
84 


THE  COMMITTEE  OF  SEVEN 

of  the  barkeeper,  they  said,  had  sent  them  to  the 
stateroom  of  Hayle's  twins,  who,  with  tears  of  wrath, 
had  confessed  themselves  prisoners;  prisoners  of  their 
own  word  of  honor  — "  after  being  knocked  down " 

"What?"  cried  senator,  judge,  and  bishop. 

"  Yes,  sirs,  one  of  them  literally  knocked  down  by  the 
acknowledged  minion  of  one  Courteney,  for  having 
ventured  to  differ  politically  with  another  and  for  dar 
ing  to  mention  the  pestilence  to  a  third." 

The  seven  poured  out  to  the  guards  and  started  for 
the  roof.  The  bell  up  there  tolled  for  the  landing  at 
Whippoorwill  Ferry.  About  to  ascend  a  stair,  they 
uncovered  and  stood  aside  while  Madame  Hayle  and 
a  cabin  maid  passed  down  on  their  way  back  to  the 
immigrants'  deck.  By  the  time  the  roof  was  reached 
the  boat  was  close  inshore.  The  captain  had  begun 
to  direct  her  landing.  The  engine  bells  were  jingling. 
Tall  torch  baskets  were  blazing  on  the  lower-deck 
guards,  and  another  burial  awaited  only  the  running 
out  of  the  big  stage.  Now  it  hurried  ashore,  a  weirdly 
solemn  pageant.  The  seven,  looking  down  upon  it, 
regained  a  more  becoming  composure.  When  the  swift 
task  was  done,  the  torches  quenched,  and  the  boat 
again  under  way  and  her  movements  in  control  of  the 
pilot,  they  once  more  looked  for  the  captain.  His  chair 
was  empty,  but  his  room  was  bright  and  its  door  ajar. 
Within,  however,  was  only  the  wholly  uninspiring  fig 
ure  of  Hugh,  at  a  table,  where  he  was  just  beginning 
to  write.  He  rose  and  seemed  sedately  to  count  his 
visitors. 

85 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"We  are  looking  for  the  captain/'  said  the  senator. 

"He's  down  on  the  after  lower  deck,  sir." 

"Oh!"  The  bushy  brows  of  the  inquirer  lifted. 
"Will  you  send  for  him?  We  can't  very  well  go  down 
there." 

"That's  true,  sir,"  said  Hugh,  feeling  the  irony, 
"unless  you  wish  to  help."  He  looked  from  one  to 
another,  but  none  of  the  seven  wished  to  help. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say,"  broke  in  the  general,  "ththat 
we  can't  sssee  ththe  captain  of  ththis  boat  unless  we 
nurse  the  cholera?" 

"  No,  sir,  I  don't  mean  that,  though  he's  very  much 
occupied.  If  you  will  state  your  business  to  me  I  will 
send  for  him  unless  I  can  attend  to  it  myself." 

"Why,  my  young  friend,"  said  the  senator,  "does 
that  strike  you  as  due  courtesy  to  a  delegation  like 
this?" 

"No,  sir,  ordinarily  it  would  not  be,  sir.  But  my 
father — I  am  the  captain's  son — knowing  you  were 
coming  and  what  you  were  coming  for,  waited  for  you 
as  long  as  he  could.  Just  now  he  is  extremely  busy, 
sir,  doing  what  he  can — short-handed — for  the  sick 
and  dying."  The  captain's  son,  in  spite  of  himself, 
began  to  warm  up.  "Those  hundreds  of  people  down 
yonder,  sir,  are  homeless,  friendless,  dumb — you  may 
say — and  in  his  personal  care.  He  has  left  me  here  to 
see  that  your  every  proper  wish  has  every  attention. 
Gentlemen,  will  you  please  be  seated?"  He  resumed 
his  own  chair  and  at  top  speed  began  again  to  write. 

It  was  a  performance  not  pleasant  for  any  one.  He 
86 


THE  COMMITTEE  OF  SEVEN 

felt  himself  culpably  too  full  of  the  resentful  conviction 
that  this  ferment,  whose  ultimate  extent  nobody  could 
predict,  was  purely  of  those  Hayle  twins'  brewing,  and 
he  knew  he  was  speaking  too  much  as  though  to  them 
and  them  alone.  He  was  the  only  Courteney  who  could 
do  this  thing  so  badly,  yet  it  must  be  done.  Still 
writing,  he  glanced  up.  Not  a  visitor  had  stooped  to 
sit.  He  dipped  his  pen  but  rose  up  again.  "What 
can  I  do  for  you,  sirs?" 

"We  have  told  you,"  said  the  senator.  "Send  for 
the  captain!" 

"Will  you  please  say  what  you  want  him  for?" 

"No,  sir!    We  will  tell  him  that  when  he  comes!" 

"He'll  not  come,  sir.     I  shan't  send." 

The  senator  glared  steadily  into  the  youth's  face, 
and  the  youth,  forgetting  their  disparity  of  years, 
glared  as  steadily  back.  The  bishop  blandly  spoke: 

"  Senator,  will  you  allow  me,  for  an  instant — ?  Mr. 
Courteney,  you  will  admit  that  this  steamboat  is  not 
your  property?" 

"She's  as  much  mine  as  anybody's,  sir.  I  am  one 
third  owner  of  her." 

The  bishop's  pause  was  lengthy.  Then — "Oh,  you 
are!  Well,  however  that  may  be,  sir,  your  father 
ought  to  realize — and  so  ought  you,  sir — that  we  can 
not  consent  to  conduct  an  affair  like  this  in  a  second- 
handed  way." 

"It  really  isn't  second-handed,  sir;  but  if  you  think 
it  is  and  if  you're  willing  to  put  your  request  in  writ 
ing  and  will  dictate  it  to  me,  here  and  now " 

87 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

The  senator  exploded:  "Damn  the  writing!"  He 
whirled  upon  the  bishop:  "Your  pardon,  sir!" 

"Some  one  had  to  say  it,"  jovially  answered  the 
bishop.  Everybody  laughed.  Hugh  dipped  his  pen 
once  more. 

"Shall  I  put  that  down,  also?"  he  asked,  looking  to 
the  bishop  and  the  senator  by  turns. 

"Put  what?— down  where?"  they  asked.  "What 
are  you  writing  there,  anyhow?" 

"Our  conversation." 

The  senator  stiffened  high:  "For  what,  sir?" 

And  the  bishop  asked,  "A  verbatim  report  to  the 
captain?  " 

"Yes,  sir,  and  the  newspapers." 

"Insolence!"  exclaimed  the  general,  but  was  hushed 
by  the  squire,  though  the  squire's  own  brow  lowered. 

"Who  will  vouch  for  your  accuracy?"  loftily  asked 
the  senator. 

"I'll  send  now  for  witnesses."  The  youth  reached 
toward  a  bell-cord.  But  the  senator  lifted  a  hand  be 
tween  : 

"  Stop,  sir.  There  will  be  nothing  to  witness.  Nev 
ertheless  you  know,  of  course,  that  this  is  not  the  end." 

"I  see  that,  sir." 

"When  your  passengers  awake  in  the  morning,  your 
real,  your  cabin  passengers,  they  will,  they  shall  awake 
to  the  deadly  hazard  of  their  situation.  Gentlemen, 
there  will  be  available  landings  beyond  Prophet's  Is 
land.  We  shall  reach  Turnbull's  Island  by  noon  and 
Natchez  Island  before  sundown.  Meantime,  sir,  this 

88 


THE  COMMITTEE  OF  SEVEN 

mortal  peril  to  hundreds  of  our  best  people  is  wholly 
chargeable  to  your  captain." 

"Captain  and  owners,"  said  Hugh. 

"Captain  and  owners!    Good  night,  sir." 

"Good  night,  gentlemen." 

For  half  an  hour  the  Votaress  headed  west.  Then 
the  north  star  crept  forward  from  starboard  beam 
to  bow  and  then  back  from  bow  to  larboard  beam. 
Plaquemine  town,  bayou,  and  bend  swept  past,  and  as 
she  laid  her  course  east  for  Manchac  bayou,  bend,  and 
point  a  tranquil  voice  came  up  to  the  pilot-house  from 
the  darkness  forward  of  the  bell :  "  Where  is  Hugh,  Mr. 
Watson?" 

"He's  just  turned  in,  sir." 


XV 
MORNING  WATCH 

TWINKLED  quite  away  were  the  four  hours  of  middle 
watch. 

All  the  gentler  turnings  of  the  journey's  first  hun 
dred  miles  were  finished  and  the  many  hundred  miles 
of  its  wider  contortions  were  well  begun.  One  winding 
of  thirty-five  miles  had  earned  but  twelve  of  northward 
advance.  But  at  any  rate  that  was  now  far  down 
stream.  Baton  Rouge,  the  small  capital  of  the  State, 
crowning  the  first  high  bank  you  reach,  was  some  six 
miles  astern.  In  the  dark  panorama  of  the  shores,  de 
cipherable  only  to  a  pilot's  trained  sight,  the  unbroken 
procession  of  sugar  estates  was  broken  at  last  and  the 
shining  Votaress,  having  rounded  a  point  from  north 
to  west,  was  crossing  close  above  it  with  Seven  Lakes 
and  the  Devil's  Swamp  on  her  starboard  bow.  The 
Antelope  glimmered  a  short  mile  behind. 

It  was  the  first  mate's  watch.  On  the  hurricane- 
deck  he  paced  at  ease  across  and  across  near  the  front 
rail,  where  at  any  instant  his  eye  could  drop  to  its 
truer  domain,  the  forecastle.  The  westerly  moon  hung 
high  over  the  larboard  bow.  Now  the  boat  ran  so 
close  along  the  lowland  that  in  smiting  the  water  each 
bucket  of  her  shoreward  wheel  drew  a  separate  echo 

90 


MORNING  WATCH 

from  the  dense  wood,  as  if  a  phantom  boat  ran  beside 
her  among  the  moss-draped  cypresses.  Ramsey !  what 
thrills  you  were  missing! 

She  knew  it.  In  her  sleep  she  lay  half  consciously 
resenting  the  loss.  Under  the  next  point  a  close  turn 
led  into  a  long  northeastward  reach,  and  as  the  Votaress 
bore  due  north  across  it  the  morning  star,  at  one  flash, 
blazed  out  on  the  dark  world  and  down  the  flood. 
Through  her  stateroom's  high  window  its  silvery  beam 
found  Ramsey  in  the  upper  berth  and  opened  her  eye 
lids  with  a  touch.  Staring  on  the  serene  splendor,  she 
would  soon  have  slept  again,  but  just  then  the  many 
lights  of  a  large  steamer  glided  out  of  the  next  bend 
above  and  Ramsey  sprang  to  an  elbow  to  watch  its 
swift  approach  and  await  her  own  boat's  passing  call 
and  the  other's  reply.  Now  the  Votaress  tolled  a  sin 
gle  stroke,  as  if  to  cry:  "Hail,  friend,  we  take  the  star 
board." 

With  bird-like  speed  the  shining  apparition  came 
on,  and  after  a  few  seconds — that  seemed  endless — its 
soft,  slow  note  of  assent  floated  over  the  waters.  Cross 
ing  the  star's  slender  path  on  a  long  oblique,  the  won 
der  came,  came  on,  came  close,  glittered  by,  and  was 
gone;  now  lowland  and  flood  lay  again  in  mystic  shad 
ows,  and  the  heavenly  beacon  of  dawn,  shedding  a  yet 
more  unearthly  glory  than  before,  swung  nearer  and 
nearer  to  the  Votaress's  course  until  it  vanished  for 
ward  of  the  great  wheel-house  as  she  headed  northeast. 

The  very  pilot  at  the  helm  was  not  more  awake  than 
the  reclining  Ramsey  as  she  pondered  the  hours,  each 

91 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

one  a  year,  that  had  passed  since  she  came  aboard.  All 
their  happenings,  dark  and  bright;  all  their  speeches; 
all  their  faces,  male,  female,  aged,  adolescent,  juvenile, 
danced  through  her  fancy  with  a  variety  and  multi 
plicity  of  values  which  seven  such  little  country-girl 
minds  as  hers,  thought  she,  could  hardly  make  room 
for.  It  seemed  as  though  a  shower  of  coined  gold  were 
overflowing  her  wee  muslin  apron  of  an  intelligence  and 
dropping  through  it.  She  could  scarcely  remain  in  the 
berth.  Listen!  Was  her  mother  awake,  in  the  lower 
one?  The  boat  veered  a  trifle  back  northward  and 
suddenly  again,  hovering  over  dim  water  and  shore 
and  blazing  like  a  herald  angel,  was  the  morning  star, 
a  scant  point  or  so  to  "stabboard."  She  chuckled, 
softly,  at  the  word. 

Gently  her  name  was  called,  beneath  her :  "  Ramsey?  " 
She  let  her  face  into  the  pillow  and  shook  with  the 
fun  of  it.  If  she  should  squeak  half  a  note  of  reply 
she  would  be  ordered  to  stay  abed.  Soon  the  mother 
rose  and  began  stealthily  to  dress.  No  doubt  it  was 
to  return  to  those  poor  Germans  below.  The  thought 
was  very  sobering.  Ramsey  yearned  to  go  with  her, 
but  knew  she  might  as  well  ask  leave  to  ride  in  the 
white  yawl  which,  night  and  day,  so  incessantly,  in 
vitingly  skimmed,  zigzagged,  foamed,  and  bounded 
after  the  Votaress,  holding  on  to  her  fantail  by  its  jerk 
ing  painter. 

The  yawl  reminded  her  of  the  boy  Hugh.  He 
seemed  to  belong  to  the  boat  in  much  the  same  way 
as  it.  He  was  a  boy,  nothing  else — humph ! — pooh ! — 

92 


MORNING  WATCH 

though  he  seemed  to  think  himself  the  elephant  of  the 
show.  A  boy,  and  yet  with  what  a  mind!  Not  that 
she  should  ever  want  one  like  it — whoop!  what  would 
she  ever  do  with  it?  No  wonder  she  had  laughed  in 
his  face.  Without  laughter  she  would  have  been  his 
tossed  and  trampled  victim.  Laughter  was  her  lad 
der;  the  ladder  up  which  the  circus  girl  runs  to  sit  on 
the  elephant's  shoulder. 

The  lock  of  the  stateroom  door  whispered.  Her 
mother  was  going!  Now  she  was  gone!  The  daugh 
ter  rose  enough  to  look  out  on  the  gliding  flood.  It 
was  day.  But,  night  or  day,  how  it  intensified  exis 
tence,  this  perpetual,  tremulous  passing  of  heaven  and 
earth  over  and  round  and  by  and  beneath  one !  Every 
least  incident,  indoors  or  out,  was  large  and  vivid,  and 
a  mere  look  from  a  window  became  a  picture  in  the 
memory,  to  hang  there  through  life.  Nay,  a  sound 
was  enough,  too  much.  The  remote  peck-peck  of  that 
carpenter's  hammer  smote  into  her  mind  the  indelible 
image  of  the  only  thing  he  could  be  making  at  such  an 
hour.  Trying  to  be  deaf,  she  thought  of  Joy — timely 
thought!  At  any  moment  the  old  dear  might  steal  in. 
She  dropped  from  her  berth,  and  when  the  actual  in 
vasion  came,  when  Joy  appeared,  Ramsey  was  at  the 
wash-stand,  splashing  like  a  canary,  while  strewn  about 
the  cramped  place  lay  a  lot  of  fresh  attire,  her  Sunday 
best,  brightest,  longest. 

"Now,  you  needn't  say  one  word!"  she  cried. 

The  old  woman  bridled  to  say  many,  but  before  she 
could  speak  there  was  a  fervent  challenge  to  answer: 

93 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Do  you  realize  all  I've  got  to  attend  to  to-day?" 

The  nurse's  mouth  opened  but  another  question  was 
shot  into  it:  "Has  anybody  told  about  the  Quakeress?" 

There  was  a  limit  to  forbearance.  "  Now,  Miss  Ram 
sey  Hayle,  ef  dey  is  tell  it,  aw  ef  dey  hain't — to  yo'  ma 
— dat's  all  right  an'  beseemly.  But  fo'  you,  dat  ain't 
no  fitt'n'  story  fo'  you  to  heah!" 

Ramsey  stared  from  her  towel  with  lips  apart. 
"Why,  you — I'm  going  to  hear  it! — all! — this  day! — 
or,  anyhow,  this  trip! — from — from — "  She  fell  upon 
the  nurse's  shoulder,  convulsed. 

"F'om  who'  is  you  gwine  hear  it?  Stop,  missie, 
stawp !  Dat's  madness,  dat  laughteh.  De  Bible  say' 
so!  F'm  who' — ?  Lawd!  yo'  head's  a-wett'n'  my 
breas'-han'kercheh ! " 

Ramsey  drew  up,  her  eyes  dancing,  but  went  into  a 
new  transport  as  she  replied:  "From  the  baby  ele 
phant!" 

"No,  you  don't,  Miss  Ramsey  Hayle!  No,  you 
don't!  An'  besides,  befo'  you  heah  de  story  o'  de 
Quak'ess  you  want  to  heah  de  story  o'  Phyllis." 


94 


XVI 
PHYLLIS 

FROM  earliest  childhood  the  Hugh  whom  it  gave 
Ramsey  such  rapture  to  nickname  had  unconsciously 
worn  the  dim  frown  that  seemed  to  her  so  droll  because 
at  once  so  scrutinous  yet  so  appealing. 

To  others  that  faint  shade  had  never  meant  more 
than  an  inborn  mental  painstaking;  a  mind  as  steadily 
at  work  as  the  pulse;  seemingly  sluggish,  really  active. 
But  Ramsey,  in  her  stateroom,  letting  Joy  dress  her 
for  all  the  Sabbath  could  mean  afloat  or  ashore,  could 
not  accept  such  a  thought.  A  feminine  eagerness 
to  read  the  masculine  brow  had  promptly  imputed 
to  Hugh's  a  depth  of  mystery  for  which  her  roman 
tic  young  soul  demanded  a  romantic  interpretation. 
Hence,  mainly,  her  hunger  for  the  story  of  the  Quaker 
ess.  She  had  perceived,  she  thought,  a  relation  be 
tween  it  and  the  clouded  brow,  and  was  bent  on  find 
ing  for  the  brow's  owner  as  amazing  a  part  in  the  tale 
as  could  be  contrived  by  any  piecing  together  of  its 
facts  which  did  not  absolutely  mutilate  them.  And 
these  facts  already  she  had  begun  to  collect  when  by 
the  mention  of  this  "Phyllis"  she  discovered  that  old 
Joy  had  at  least  a  share  of  the  facts  and  under  due 
pressure  would  yield  them  up. 

"Phyllis?"  asked  Ramsey,  "who  was  Phyllis?" 
95 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Humph!  Neveh  hear  o'  Phyllis?  Well,  dey  wuz 
reason  fo'  dat,  too.  Phyllis  wuz  de  likeliest  yalleh 
gal  I  eveh  see,  not-in-standin'  she  wuz  my  full  fus' 
cousin." 

Now,  one  could  be  as  dark  as  a  sloe  and  yet  have  a 
cousin  as  yellow  as  a  marigold,  but  Ramsey  did  not 
see  it  so.  "How  can  that  be?"  she  laughed,  "when 
you  are  so  out  and  out  black?"  The  bare  idea  seemed 
too  comical  for  human  endurance. 

"I  ain't  no  blackeh'n  Gawd  made  me — oh,  Lawd! 
missie,  how  I  gwine  button  you  up  ef  you  shif '  an*  wrig 
gle  like  dat?  Phyllis  wuz  nuss  to  all  de  Co'teney  chil'- 
en.  'Gaze  dat  same  day  when  de  new  Quak'tss  come 
down  de  riveh  wid  dis  same  Mahs'  Hugh,  new-bawn, 
dah  wuz  yo'  pa  on  his  new  boat,  de  Conjuror " 

"Ow!  the  Conqueror!" 

"Yass'm,  dat's  what  I  say.  And  dah  wuz  yoj  ma, 
an'  me,  o'  co'se,  and  dah  wuz  Phyllis,  my  full  fus' 
cousin — now,  ef  you  cayn't  stop  a-gigglin'  an'  wrigglin' 
long  enough  fo'  me  to  finish  dis " 

Ramsey  was  too  unnerved  to  heed.  "  How  could — " 
she  insisted— "  how  could  a — a  mulatto  girl  be  your 
first  cousin?" 

"Now,  you  dess  neveh  min'  how!  Phyllis  wa'n't 
no  mullatteh,  nohow.  She  wuz  a  quadroom!  Heh 
mullatteh  motheh  wuz  my  own  sisteh!" 

"Oh,  you  mean  half-sister!" 

"  I  means  whole  sisteh !  Miss  Hayle,  betteh  you  dess 
drap  dat  subjic'  now,  an'  thaynk  Gawd  fo'  yo'  ign'- 
ance!" 

96 


PHYLLIS 

"All  right!  all  right!  whole  sister!  go  on!  were  you 
twins?"  The  querist  gave  a  wild  start  of  surprise  at 
herself  and  sank  to  the  floor. 

"Missie,"  sighed  the  old  woman,  "y'ain't  neveh  in 
yo'  life  stopped  to  think  dat  niggehs  is  got  feelin's,  is 
you?" 

The  speech  was  hardly  begun  before  the  girl  was  up 
and  about  the  protester's  neck:  "Hush!  pie-ease  hush! 
You've  said  it  before,  you've  said  it  before,  you've  said 
it  before,  before!" 

The  nurse's  eyes  filled:  "Yass,  an'  what  use  it  been? 
De  wuss  thing  I  know  'bout  good  white  folks — an' 
when  I  says  ( good '  I  means  de  best ! — dat  is,  dat  dey 
don't  believe  niggehs  is  got  feelin's!"  It  was  hard  to 
speak  on,  for  Ramsey  had  pushed  her  into  a  chair  and 
was  in  her  lap. 

"They  do!  they  do,  mammy  Joy,  they  do!"  She 
fell  to  kissing  her,  first  slowly,  then  wildly  as  Joy  in 
sisted  : 

"No,  dey  don't.  Ef  dey  did,  Phyllis  'ud  neveh  'a' 
come  to  de  pass  she  came  to.  But  dey  don't!  Some 
o'  de  bes'  believes  dey  believes,  dat's  all.  Oh,  I  'llow 
you,  lots  o'  white  folks  is  got — oh,  Lawd !  don't  spile 
my  breas'-han'kercheh! — is  got  mo'  feelin's  dan  some 
niggehs;  but  lots  o'  niggehs  is  got  lots  mo'  feelin's  dan 
some  white  folks.  Mo'  an'  betteh!  Now,  my  sisteh, 
my  yalleh  sisteh " 

"Oh,  never  mind,  there's  the  rising  gong!  I  know 
your  yellow  sister  must  have  had  feelings.  Tell  about 
Phyllis — and  the  Courteneys — and  the  Quakeress. " 

97 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Well,  I  will!  Yo'  plumb  sot  on  gitt'n'  de  thing, 
an' " 

"  Yes,  and  it's  not  a  fit  story  for  me  to  ask  him  about 
and  you  know  I'll  ask  him  if  I  have  to!  And  besides, 
I  just  know  mom-a's  told  you  to  keep  me  off  the  hurri 
cane  roof  any  way  you  can  and  as  long  as  you  can — 
listen!  the  big  bell!  we're  meeting  a  boat,  maybe  half 
a  dozen!  And  we're  passing  to  labboard.  Come! 
Come  on!" 

At  their  own  door  they  espied  the  passing  craft:  a 
single  boat,  not  six;  a  tiny,  cabinless,  one-funnelled, 
unclean,  crawling  thing,  dimly  made  out  in  the  early 
dusk  of  the  forested  shore  which  it  servilely  hugged  as 
if  doing  all  it  could  to  hide  its  grimy  name  and  iden 
tity. 

"  The  Fly-up-the-Creek ! "  gasped  Ramsey.  "  Oh,  that 
can't  be  all!"  She  sprang  up  a  stair,  dragging  the 
old  woman  after,  and  on  the  hurricane-deck,  near  a 
paddle-box,  stood  for  a  moment  in  the  wide  glory  of 
water,  land,  and  early  sky,  agape  again  at  the  squalid 
object.  Then,  as  the  full  humor  of  the  thing  struck 
her — but  her  behavior  may  as  well  go  undescribed. 
Yet  it  could  not  have  been  so  very  bad,  for  the  pilot 
high  above  at  the  wheel,  Watson's  "partner,"  glancing 
down  from  his  side  window,  enjoyed  it  much;  silently, 
it  is  true,  unsmilingly;  yet  so  heartily  that  he  took  a 
fresh  bite  of  tobacco,  chewed  with  energy,  and  thought 
of  home. 

When  the  fit  was  over,  old  Joy  had  been  pressed 
into  a  chair  and  the  theme  was  once  more  Phyllis. 

98 


PHYLLIS 

"Why  did  they  bring  her  to  New  Orleans?"  was  the 
question. 

"  Who,  Phyllis?    She  wuz  fotch  down  fo'  to  be  sold." 

Ramsey's  gaze  was  roaming  every  sky-line,  but  at 
that  word  it  flashed  back:  "How,  sold?  Pop-a's  told 
me,  himself,  he  never  in  his  life  sold  one  of  his  ne 
groes!" 

"  Is  I  said  he  did?  Is  I  call'  heh  his  niggeh?  Ain't  I 
done  say  she  wuz  a  quadroom?  " 

"Why,"  laughed  Ramsey,  "a  quadroon's  a  negro!" 

"Not  in  de  sight  o'  Gawd!  My  Lawd,  dat's  de 
shame  on  it! — dat  de  likes  o'  my  baby  kin  say  de  likes 
o'  dat !  Oh,  you  kin  make  a  niggeh  out'n  a  simon-pyo' 
white  gal  ef  you  dess  raise  heh  wid  de  niggehs  and 
treat  heh  like  a  niggeh;  but " 

Ramsey  flushed:  "Oh,  I  don't  believe  that!" 

"Look  hyuh,  chile!  I  ain't  choosin'  to  tell  about 
dat,  but — I's  seen  it  done!  Time  an'  ag'in!  An' 
Phyllis  she  see  it  done!  Dat's  how  come  Phyllis  to  be 
de  kind  o'  Phyllis  she  come  to  be!" 

"What  kind?  Good,  or  bad?  I  don't  want  to 
hear  about  her  if  she  was  good." 

"She  was  bofe.  But  I  ain't  hawngry  to  tell  about 
heh,  naw  'bout  de  Quak'ess."  The  narrator  shut  her 
lips  tight. 

The  morning  air  was  like  a  sparkling  wine.  Ramsey 
squared  her  slim  shoulders  and  drank  it.  The  turbid 
waters  next  the  sunrise  showed  a  marvellous  lilac  hue, 
their  myriad  ripples  tipped  with  pink,  silver,  and  gold. 
Up-stream  the  river  opened  widely  to  the  west,  but  the 

99 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Votaress  bore  northward  across  the  foot  of  the  reach, 
and  soon  it  was  plain  that  she  was  about  to  enter  a 
"chute,"  whose  vividly  green,  low,  wooded  shore  on 
her  larboard  bow  was  a  large  island :  an  island  of  swamp 
and  jungle,  ancient  fastness  of  an  Indian  prophet,  hid- 
denly  swarming  with  all  the  ravening  and  venomous 
brute,  reptile,  and  insect  life  possible  to  the  region. 
Prophet's  Island,  it  was,  yet  no  senator,  bishop,  gen 
eral,  judge,  or  squire  was  in  sight. 

Ramsey  had  seen  it  on  her  down  trip,  when  the  boat, 
as  required  by  law  when  descending  the  stream  there, 
went  eight  miles  round  it  in  the  main  river.  She  had 
heard  with  awe  that  bit  of  history — not  this  history, 
— the  drowning,  by  collision  of  a  steamboat  and  a  ship, 
of  four  hundred  Creek  Indians  who  were  being  deported 
to  make  room  for  the  white  man,  and  had  felt  herself 
grow  older  while  she  listened.  But  now  what  unmixed 
raptures  awaited  her  in  the  narrow  short  cut!  The 
recent  presence  of  the  Fly-up-the-Creek  away  over  here 
on  this  morning  side  of  the  flood  was  made  clear;  she 
had  run  the  chute,  where  she  had  no  right  to  be,  com 
ing  down-stream. 

"My!"  cried  the  girl,  "I  wish — oh,  my,  my,  my,  I 
wish  I  could  be  five  people  at  once!" 

For  here  the  boat's  watchman  sauntered  by — a  boat's 
watchman  must  be  a  world  in  himself!  Yonder  at  the 
forward  rail  the  first  mate  still  paced  athwart  the  deck. 
By  the  captain's  chair  stood  both  the  elder  Courte- 
neys,  their  enthralling  conversation  all  going  to  waste. 
Here  rushed  and  quivered  all  the  beautiful  boat,  her 

100 


PHYLLIS 

great  human  menagerie  still  unviewed,  her  cabin-boys 
laying  her  breakfast  table,  her  cook-house  smelling  of 
hot  rolls,  the  miracles  of  machinery  pulsing  on  her 
lower  deck,  and  down  there  an  awful  tragedy  going  on, 
with  the  sweet  mother  playing  angel — oh,  my,  my!— 
and  here,  up  yonder,  was  the  pilot,  by  whose  side  one 
might  presently  look  right  into  the  narrow  chute's 
greenwood  walls  and  out  over  their  tops — "Go  on, 
mammy  Joy,  I  can't  ever  listen  to  you,  once  we're  in 
the  chute!" 

"I  ain't  bust'n'  to  tell  noth'n'.  Phyllis  ain't  belong 
to  yo'  pa,  nohow.  She  belong'  fust  to  yo'  grampa 
Hayle,  same  like  my  sisteh  do,  my  yalleh  sisteh — aw 
rutheh  to  yo'  gramma.  Yo'  gramma  she  own'  a  place 
back  o'  Vicksbu'g,  same  like  us  got  back  o'  Natchez, 
whils'  yo'  grampa  he  stick  to  de  riveh,  same  like  yoj 
pa  do  now.  But  yo'  grampa  he  outlive'  yo'  gramma 
nigh  twen'y-five  yeah'.  An'  'bout  two  yeah'  ayfteh  yo' 
gramma  die'  my  sisteh,  my  yalleh  sisteh,  she  house- 
keep  fo'  yo'  grampa — a  shawt  spell.  Yo'  ma  she  soon 
bruk  dat  up." 

"Why,  that  was  a  funny  thing  for  mom-a  to  do." 
"H-it  wuz  a  right  thing!    Dat's  what  it  wuz." 
"But,  mammy,  grandpa  died  before  I  was  born!" 
"An'  what  dat  got  to  do  wid  de  price  o'  beeswax? 
Yo'  a-mixin'  me  up  a-puppose!    Afo'  yo'  grampa  die' 
— well,  I'll  stop  tell  you  quits  de  giggles.  .  .  .  Afo'  he 
die',  when  Phyllis  wuz  growed  up,  an'  'bout  a  yeah 
ayfteh  y'uncle  Dan — de  bacheldeh — de  pilot — quit  de 
riveh  a  spell  fo'  to  run  de  Vicksbu'g  plantation,  yo' 

101 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

ma,  down  on  de  Natchez  place,  she  speak  up  ag'in, 
an'  ax'  yo'  grampa  fo'  to  loan  Phyllis  to  she.  An'  yo' 
grampa,  sho'  enough,  sawnt  heh  down,  bofe  Phyllis  an' 
de  chile." 

"Chi — you  skipped!    You're  skipping!  like  fury!" 
"Ef  I  skips  I  skips  fo'  de  good  o'  yo'  soul." 
Ramsey  stared.     "Why  did  mom-a  borrow  her?" 
"'Gaze  she  couldn'  buy  heh.    Yo'  gramma  she  die' 
leavin'  dat  whole  Vicksbu'g  place  an'  people,  bawn  an' 
unbawn,  to  yo'  grampa,  fo'  to  pass,  when  he  die',  to 
y'uncle  Dan,  an'  y'uncle  Dan  he  wouldn'  even  'a'  loan' 
Phyllis  ef  he  could  'a'  perwent.     Humph-ummm!  he 
tuck  on  'bout  his  'rights'  like  a  sett'n'  hen." 

"But  what  did  mom-a  want  to  borrow  her  for?" 
"Well,  I  mowt  say,  fo'  heh  beauty;  but  ef  I  don't 
skip  noth'n'  I  got  to  say  she  'How  to  p'otect  heh." 

Ramsey  stared  again  and  suddenly  fell  into  that  soft, 
rippling  laugh,  keen,  merry,  self-oblivious,  which  forty 
excusing  adjectives  would  not  have  excused  to  her 
nurse. 

"Protect  her  from — from  wha-at?"  She  rippled 
again. 

"  F'om  herseff ! — an'  f 'om  him ! — an'  him  f 'om  heh ! — 
and  de  whole  Hayle  fambly  an'  de  law  o'  Gawd 
f'om  bofe!  An'  she  done  it,  yo'  ma! — up  to  de  wery 
day  he  meet  his  awful  en'  in  dat  bu'nin'  pilot-house, 
when— 

"Ah-h-h !  what  pilot-house?    You  never  told  me " 

"Anybody  else  eveh  tol'  you?  No.  Us  Hayles-es 
ain't  fon'  o'  dat  story.  What  I  ain't  tell  you  ain't  be'n 

102 


PHYLLIS 

ripe  to  tell.  I  don't  tell  noth'n'  'tell  it's  ripe  to  tell, 
me!" 

"Oh,  it's  dead  ripe  now.  Go  on,  go  on! — Burning 
pilot-house — my  uncle  Dan — stop!  .  .  .  Hmm!  .  .  . 
That's  funny.  .  .  .  Why,  mammy,  how  could  he  be 
my  uncle  if  he — was  burnt  up — before  I  was  born?" 

"Dat's  yo'  lookout.  He  wa'n't  bu'nt  up  tell  you 
wuz  goin'  on  five.  Yo'  mixin'  his  las'  en'  wid  yo' 
grampa's." 

"Oh,  I  see-ee!    He  was  lost  on  the  Quakeress  /" 

"Well,  thaynky,  ma'am!  Yo'  perceivin'  powehs  is 
a-gitt'n'  ahead  o'  de  hounds.  I  wuz  a-comin'  to 
dat " 

Ramsey  interrupted.  Her  cry  of  ecstasy  was  not 
for  the  breakfast  bell,  which  on  the  deck  next  below 
rang  joyously  up  and  down  both  guards  and  died  away 
in  the  ladies'  cabin.  It  was  for  a  vision  that  rose  before 
her  and  the  Votaress;  an  illusion  of  the  boat's  whole 
speed  being  lost  to  the  boat  and  given  to  the  shore. 
Suddenly  the  fair  craft  seemed  to  stop  and  stand, 
foaming,  panting,  quivering  like  a  wild  mare,  while 
the  green,  gray-bearded,  dew-drenched  forest — island 
and  mainland — amid  a  singing  of  innumerable  birds, 
glided  down  upon  her,  opening  the  chute  to  gulp  her  in 
without  a  twang  of  her  guys  or  a  stain  upon  her  beauty. 

"Go  on!"  cried  Ramsey,  her  eyes  enthralled  by  the 
scene,  her  ears  by  the  story: — "Mom-a  borrowed 
Phyllis— goon!" 

"When  yo'  grampa  gone,"  said  Joy,  "an'  de  will  is 
read,  yo'  ma  tell  y'uncle  Dan  fo'  to  neveh  mine  his 

103 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

rights  aw  his  lef's;  he  kin  go  on  ownin'  Phyllis  and  de 
chile,  but,  all  de  same,  he  cayn't  have  'em.  An'  when 
he  paw  de  groun'  an'  th'ow  dus'  on  his  back  yo'  pa 
dess — go  an'  see  him.  Wheneveh  yo'  pa  dess  go  an' 

see  anybody,  you  know " 

Ramsey  knew.     She  tinkled  with  delight. 
"But   den   come   wuss   trouble.    'Gaze   'bout   dat 
time- 
About  that  time  Ramsey  whisked  round  and  stood 
so  as  to  give  Hugh  Courteney,  as  he  came  on  deck,  a 
square  view  of  her  young  back.    He  noticed  her  better 
length  of  skirt. 

"Go  on,"  she  murmured.  "Is  he  coming  this 
way?" 

"Co'se  he  ain't.  He  gwine  up  to  de  pilot-house." 
"Humph,  how  awful  busy!  That's  just  for  gran 
deur.  Go  on."  And  while  the  leafy  jaws  of  the 
chute  drew  them  in  and  all  the  air  was  suddenly  filled 
with  the  boat's  sounds  flung  back  from  every  rippling 
bough,  tree  top,  and  mass  of  draping  vines,  the  nurse 
went  on: 

"  'Bout  dat  time  yo'  pa  he  git  de  hahdess  ovehseeh  he 
eveh  did  git,  an'  you  can't  'spute  de  fact  dat  yo'  pa  he 
take'  natchiully  to  hahd  men,  an'  hahd  men  take  natch- 
iully  to  him.  You  kin  say  dat  to  his  credits." 

"Yes,"  replied  Ramsey,  "yes,"  sighing,  gesticulating, 
whimpering  in  ecstasies  of  sight  as  the  walls  of  the 
watery  lane  cramped  in  to  half  its  first  width.  They 
seemed  to  rush  past  of  their  own  volition,  while  out 
beyond  them  on  either  hand  the  whole  dense  gray- 

104 


PHYLLIS 

green  interwoven  wilderness,  with  ceremonial  stateli- 
ness,  swung  round  on  itself  in  slow  time  to  the  windy 
speed  of  the  Votaress. 


105 


XVII 
"IT'S  A-HAPPMIN'  YIT— TO  WE   ALL" 

NEVERTHELESS,  "Go  on!"  cried  Ramsey.  "How 
could  the  overseer  be  hard  on  Phyllis  if  Phyllis  was 
mom-a's  maid?" 

"Phyllis  fo'ce'  him  to  it!  'Gaze  all  dat  time,  while 
she  sweet  as  roses  wid  yo'  ma — so's  to  keep  in  cahoots 
wid  heh  an'  not  have  noth'n'  to  do  wid  niggehs  o'  no 
breed,  pyo',  half,  quahteh,  aw  half-quahteh — she  so 
wild  to  git  back  to  y'uncle  Dan  dat  she — 

"And  to  leave  mom-a!  The  goosy-goosy!  What 
for?" 

"Well,  for  one  thing,  by  bad  luck,  f'om  fus'  sight, 
de  ovehseeh  he  fancy  Phyllis.  Y'un'stan' " 

"I  don't!   I  don't  want  to— Go  on!" 

"Humph!  Phyllis  un'stan'.  She  un'stan'  so  well 
an'  so  quick  dat  de  fus'  drizzly  night  when  de  rain 
Vd  spile  de  trail — de  scent — she  up  wid  de  chile  an' 
putt  out." 

"For  my  uncle  Dan!  Walnut  Hills!  Goon!"  The 
moving  scene  was  forgotten  though  the  chute  was 
widening  again. 

"  Well,  de  ovehseeh,  o'  co'se,  he  got  to  run  heh  down 
an'  fetch  heh  back.  An'  same  time  de  creeks  an' 

bayous " 

106 


"IT'S  A-HAPPMIN'  YIT— TO  WE  ALL" 

"Oh,  now,  that's  the  same  old " 

"Yass,  oh,  yass,  de  same  ole!  So  ole  an'  common 
dat  you  white  folks — what  has  all  de  feelin's 

"Now,  just  hush!  You  don't  know  anything  about 
it!  Goon!  Goon!  The  bayous  were — what?" 

"Bank  full,  dat's  all.  One  place  Phyllis  an'  him 
nigh  got  swep'  away  an'  he  drap'  de  chile." 

"Oh!  ...  Oh!  ...  Oh!" 

"He  bleeged  to  do  it,  he  tell  yo'  ma,  fo'  to  save 
Phyllis — what  ain't  want'n'  to  be  save'.  Whils'  de 
chile — wuz — de  chile  wuz  drownded."  The  old  woman 
moved  to  rise,  but  the  girl,  with  a  new  expression  in 
her  face,  prevented  her. 

"  Go  on !    What  did  mom-a  do?  " 

"Lawd,  what  could  she  do — widout  yo'  pa?" 

"Oh,  I'd  have  done  something.  What  did  Phyl 
lis  do?" 

"Phyllis?  Dess  th'ash'  de  bed  fo'  th'ee  days— eyes 
a-blazin'  murdeh;  th'ee  days  and  de  Lawd  know'  how 
many  night'.  Yo'  ma  done  one  thing  but  you  don't 
want  to  know  dat,  I  reckon." 

"What  did  she  do?     Did  she  turn  Whig?" 

"Wuss! — ef  wuss  kin  be.  She  tu'n' — dat  day — 
Abolitionless,  Ain't  neveh  tell  me,  but — you  ax  heh. 
Mebbe  it  wa'n't  all  'count  o'  Phyllis.  Mebbe  it  wa'n't 
plumb  hoss-sensible  nohow.  But  dat  day —  You  ax 
heh!" 

Ramsey  flashed:  "What  are  you  telling  me  all  this 
for?" 

"Lawd!  An'  how  many  time'  is  you  say,  'Go  on'?" 
107 


^GIDEON'S  BAND 

"I  meant  about  the  Quakeress." 

"  Well,  ain't  dis  de  story  oj  de  Quak'ess?    When " 

"  Stop !    I'll  tell  it  to  you.     I  see  it  all." 

"You!  Y'ain't  see  it  de  quahteh  o'  half  a  quah- 
teh.  Dat  story  is  a-happmin'  yit — to  we-all — on  dis 
boat!" 

The  breakfast-bell  rang  again,  and  Hugh  started 
down  from  the  pilot-house.  But  Ramsey  would  ask 
the  old  woman  one  more  question:  "Is  it  happening 
to  him,  too?" 

"Co'se,  him;  all  o'  us;  twins  an'  all.  When  us 
brung  Phyllis  down  de  riveh  yo'  ma  wuz  dead  ag'in 
sellin'  heh,  an'  when  us  git  win'  dat  de  Co'teneys  want' 
a  nuss  yo'  pa  he  dat  glad  he  snap  his  fingehs.  '  Us'll 
rent  Phyllis  to  'em!'  he  say.  'Dey's  Hendry  Clay 
Whigs;  dey'd  ought  to  treat  heh  fine.'  (Dat  wuz  his 
joke.)  An'  yo'  ma  make  answeh:  'Ef  dey  don't,  us  kin 
take  heh  back!  Betteh  dat  dan  sell  heh!  Nobody 
o'  de  Hayle  blood  shayn't  do  dat  whils'  I  live.' " 

Hugh  was  near.  "Good  morning!"  sang  Ramsey. 
They  met  at  the  head  of  a  stair.  She  turned  away 
and  looked  out  beyond  the  jack-staff  as  radiantly  as  if 
she  had  just  alighted  on  the  planet.  The  chute  was 
astern.  A  new  reach  of  open  water  came,  sun-gilt,  to 
meet  them,  and  on  either  hand  the  low,  monotonous 
green  shores  crept  southward  a  mile  apart. 

She  faced  again  to  Hugh.  "Isn't  this  God's  coun 
try?" 

"  In  a  way,"  the  youth  admitted  with  a  scant  smile. 

She  glanced  about.  "Most  beautiful  river  in  the 
108 


"IT'S  A-HAPPMIN'  YIT— TO  WE  ALL" 

world!"  she  urged,  and  when  he  faltered  she  cried: 
"  Oh,  you're  prej  udiced ! "  She  turned  half  away.  "  I 
know  one  thing;  I  wouldn't  let  my  grandfather  preju 
dice  me." 

A  new  thought  struck  her:  "Oh!  ...  I've  just 
heard  all  about  it!  .  .  .  And  it  helps  to  explain — 
you!" 

He  enjoyed  the  personality.  "Heard  all  about 
what?" 

"Phyllis!"  She  jerked  up  and  down.  His  smile 
vanished;  his  lips  set;  he  turned  red. 

Ramsey  was  even  more  taken  aback  than  he  or  old 
Joy.  She  knew  the  pilot  was  looking  down  on  her, 
the  mate  glancing  back  at  her.  Yet  she  laughed  and 
prattled  and  all  at  once  frowningly  said:  "But  one 
thing  I  just  can't  make  out!  What  on  earth  had  the 
Hayle  blood  to  do  with  any  right  or  wrong  of  selling 
Phyllis?  Do  you  know?" 

Hugh  reddened  worse,  and  in  that  instant,  out- 
blushing  him,  she  saw  the  truth.  "Never  mind!" 
she  cried.  "Oh,  did  I  stop  you?  Go  on! — I — I  mean 
go  on  down — to  breakfast!" 

"Won't  you  go  first?" 

"No,  thank  you;  go  on!  Please,  go  on!"  Glan 
cing  up  to  the  pilot  and  catching  his  amused  eye,  she 
pointed  distantly  ahead.  "What  is  that  high  bank 
on  the — the  stabboard  shore?"  she  asked  him. 

"Why" — his  tobacco  caused  but  a  moment's  delay 
—"nothing  much.  They  call  that  Port  Hudson." 

"Thank  you!"  She  darted  below,  where  Hugh  was 
109 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

already  gone.  As  she  started  she  caught  sight  of  the 
twins.  They  had  just  come  up  on  the  far  side  of  the 
boat  and  were  approaching  the  mate.  Still  flushed, 
but  straight  as  a  dart,  at  the  stair's  foot  she  turned  on 
her  attendant  and  with  brimming  eyes  said  softly:  "I 
don't  want  any  breakfast.  I'm  going  to  the  lower 
deck — to  find  mom-a." 

"  You  shayn't !    You'll  git  de  cholera ! " 

"Pooh,  the  cholera! — after  what  I've  got! — I'm  go 
ing  to  tell  mom-a  on  you!" 

"On  me — me!    Good  Lawd!    Go  on,  I's  wid  you!" 

"You'd  no  right  to  tell  me  that  story!" 

"Missie,  I  on'y  tol'  you  fo'  to  stop  you.  You  said 
yo'se'f  you  gwine  ax  him  all  about  it." 

"Oh,  him!"  The  girl  laughed,  yet  showed  new 
tears.  "I  don't  mind  him;  I  mind  the  story!  I  don't 
even  care  who  it's  about,  Hayles  or  no  Hayles!" 

"  Why,  den,  what  does  you  care ?  " 

"I  care  what  it's  about."  She  suddenly  looked 
older.  "Oh,  I'm  all  over  bespattered  with  the  hor- 
rid- 

"Y'ain't.  Y'ain't  de  sawt  fo'  dat.  Look  at  yo' 
ma.  She  have  bofe  han's  in  it.  Is  she  all  oveh  be- 
spattud?" 

"Oh,  you!  You  know  nothing  could  ever  bespatter 
mom-a!  .  .  .  I'm  going  to  her  to  get  clean!" 

"Dat's  good!"  A  shrewd  elation  lit  up  the  black 
face.  "  Go  on !  As  you  say  yo'se'f,  go  on ! " 

Ramsey  started  away  but  with  an  overjoyed  gasp 
found  herself  in  her  mother's  arms.  She  pressed  closer 

110 


"ITS  A-HAPPMIN'  YIT— TO  WE  ALL" 

while  the  three  laughed,  and  when  the  other  two 
ceased  she  still  mirthfully  clung  in  that  impregnable 
sanctuary.  Suddenly  she  hearkened,  tossed  her  curls, 
and  stood  very  straight.  Two  male  voices  were  com 
ing  down  the  stairs. 

"We  cannot,"  said  one,  "submit  to  this  alive!" 

"Yes/'  said  the  other,  "we  can.  It's  just  we  who 
can — till  the  day  we  catch  them  where  they've  got  us 
to-day!" 

"And  what,  now,  is  this?"  smilingly  inquired  Ma 
dame  Hayle  as  her  twin  sons  halted  before  her. 

The  young  men  uncovered.  They  were  surprisingly 
presentable  after  the  night  they  had  spent.  Julian,  in 
particular,  looked  capable  and  proud  of  their  wayward 
ness. 

"Good  morning,"  put  in  Ramsey,  on  her  mother's 
arm.  "  See  those  little  houses  up  on  that  bank?  That's 
Port  Hudson.  Up  there  they  can  see  away  down  the 
river,  past  Prophet's  Island,  and  at  the  same  time  away 
up-stream.  If  we  were  on  the  hurric — "  She  made 
a  start,  but  her  mother,  while  addressing  the  twins, 
restrained  her. 

"Well,"  she  asked,  "you  cannot  submit — to  what?" 

"We  are  ordered  ashore!"  said  Julian. 

"At  the  next  landing!"  quavered  Lucian — "Bayou 
Sara!" 

Ramsey  slipped  from  her  mother  and  gazed  at  the 
twins  with  her  eyes  as  large  as  theirs.  "You  shan't 
go ! "  she  broke  in.  "  Where's  Hugh?  "  She  darted  for 
the  cabin,  old  Joy  following.  Julian  glared  after  them. 

Ill 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"See?"  he  said  to  his  mother.  "You  don't  see 
the  plot?  It's  a  plot! — to  compromise  us! — you  and 
her  included!" 

"Before  this  boat-load  of  witnesses!"  chimed  Lu- 
cian. 

Him  the  mother  waved  to  a  remote  chair.  "Bring 
me  that/'  she  said,  for  a  pretext,  and  turned  privately 
to  Julian,  speaking  too  swiftly  for  him  to  reply :  "  Was  it 
part  of  that  plot  that  you  was  both  on  that  lower  deck 
laz'  night?  No?  But  in  the  city  those  laz'  two-three 
day'  in  how  many  strenge  place'  you  was — lower  deck 
of  the  whole  worl' —  God  only  know',  eh? — unless 
maybe  also  the  devil — an'  the  scavenger?  That  was 
likewise  part  of  that  plot  aggains'  us?  No?  But  anny- 
'ow  that  comity  of  seven — h-ah!" — she  made  a  wry 
face — "  that  was  cause'  by  the  wicked  plotting  of  those 
Courteney '  ?  An'  that  diztrac'  you  so  bad  this  morning 
that  you  'ave  not  notiz'  even  that  change'  face  on  yo' 
brotheh? — or  that  change'  voice,  eh?  An'  him  he's 
too  afraid  to  tell  you  how  he's  feeling  bad!  As  faz' 
as  you  can,  take  him — to  his  room — his  bed — an'  say 
you,  both,  some  prayers.  He's  godd  the  cholera." 


112 


XVIII 
RAMSEY  WINS  A  POINT  OR  TWO 

THERE  was  half  an  hour  yet  before  the  first  mate's 
watch  would  end. 

He  had  risen  from  the  captain's  seat  on  the  approach 
of  that  middle-aged  pair  who  in  the  first  hour  of  the 
voyage  had  enjoyed  seeing  Hugh  and  Ramsey  to 
gether;  a  couple  whose  home  evidently  was  far  else 
where — if  anywhere — and  who  as  evidently  had  seen 
the  world  to  better  advantage  than  most  of  the  Vota 
ress's  passengers.  As  he  rose  Hugh  and  Ramsey  came 
up  near  one  of  the  wheels.  Seeing  them  start  directly 
for  him,  he  made  a  heavy  show  of  attention  to  the 
married  pair. 

While  the  quick  step  of  the  two  younger  people 
brought  them  near,  the  husband  began  to  reply  to  the 
mate :  "  Why,  to  the  common  eye,  tiresome,  I  dare  say. 
To  the  artist — I  wonder!  It's  the  only  much-travelled 
river  in  the  world  whose  most  imposing  sight  is  always 
the  boat." 

"It  isn't!"  whispered  Ramsey  to  Hugh.  Then 
openly,  yet  decorously,  "Ahem!"  she  said  as  they 
lapsed  into  waiting  attitudes.  But  the  mate  was  not 
to  be  ahemmed,  and  while  he  hearkened  on  to  the  critic 

113 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

she  could  do  no  better  than  hammer  the  small  of  her 
back  and  smooth  into  it  a  further  perfection. 

"At  the  same  time,"  continued  the  stranger,  "it's 
immensely  interesting;  politically  as  to  its  future, 
scientifically  as  to  its  past."  He  turned  to  his  wife: 
"Look,  for  instance,  at  this  bit  of  it  right  here."  A 
trained  art  in  his  pose  and  gesture  caused  Ramsey  and 
old  Joy  to  look  as  he  prompted.  "This  is  Fausse 
Riviere  Cut-off,"  he  continued,  and  the  mate  said  it 
was — 'False  River. 

"Yes.  Now,  barely  two  generations  ago" — he  ani 
matedly  took  Ramsey  into  his  glance — "this  stream 
suddenly  abandoned  twenty-odd  miles  of  its  own  tre 
mendous  length  and  width  and  sprang  through  this  two- 
mile  cut-off."  There  was  such  fervor  in  his  tone,  and 
in  his  wife's  mien  such  vivacity  of  interest,  that  the 
amazing  event  stood  before  Ramsey  as  if  it  had  just 
occurred. 

"You've  read  books  about  this  river!"  she  said. 

"A  few,  drifting  down  it  by  flatboat." 

"Oh,  by  Christopher!"  broke  out  the  mate,  "I  re 
member  you  now!  Yo're  that  play-actor!  Yo're 
the  man,  by  gad!  who  hauled  me  into  yo'  skiff  half 
roasted  and  half  drownded  when  the  Quakeress  was 
a-burnin' !  By  George,  look  here !  What  do  you  want 
on  this  boat,  that  you  ain't  already  got?  Name  it, 
sir,  just  name  it!  Oh,  by  hokey,  sir,  I !" 

Smilingly  the  actor  shook  his  head  while  his  wife 
beamed  delightedly.  "We  haven't  a  want  ungrati- 
fied,"  he  answered. 

114 


RAMSEY  WINS  A  POINT  OR  TWO 

"  Oh,  please ! "  put  in  Ramsey,  "  yes,  you  have — one ! " 

"Have  we,  mademoiselle?  Surely  we  have  if  you 
have." 

The  mate  interposed.  "That's  a  daughter  of  Gideon 
Hayle,  sir — as  good  a  captain,  by  Joe,  as  ever  took 
out  a  boat 

The  wife  nodded  gayly.     "We  know  him,"  she  said. 

"Oh!"  laughed  Ramsey,  scanning  the  pair  up  and 
down. 

"What  is  it  we  want,  worthy  daughter  of  Gideon 
Hayle?"  asked  the  player — "you  and  my  wife  and  I — 
and  y:>ur — this  is  your  brother,  is  he  not?" 

Ramsey's  mouth  and  eyes  spread  wide.  She  turned 
to  Hugh  and  at  sight  of  his  heavy  face  whisked  round 
again  with  her  handkerchief  to  her  lips.  The  mate 
spoke  for  her: 

"That's  Captain  Courteney's  son,  sir." 

"What  Miss  Hayle  wants — "  began  Hugh 

"What  we  want,"  said  Ramsey 

"Yes,"  said  Hugh,  "what  we  want  is  the  recall 
of " 

'An  order,"  broke  in  the  mate.  "I  know;  my  or 
der  for  them  two  twins  to  go  ashore.  You  can't  have 
that,  Hugh." 

"We  can!"  said  Ramsey,  with  tears  in  her  laugh. 

"No,  sir-ee!"  said  the  mate.     "Ashore  they  go!" 

"Ashore  they  don't!"  said  Ramsey.  "You  just 
told  this  gentleman  you'd  do  anything  he " 

"I'd  do  anything  he — yes,  but" — the  speaker  looked 
beyond  her —  "  Why,  Mr.  Play-actor,  them  two  young 

115 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Americans  come  up  here  a-smellin'  o'  buckwheat  cakes 
and  golden  syrup,  when  they  and  some  others — a  gen 
eral  and  a  senator,  wa'n't  they? — had  had  some  politi 
cal  tiff  with  you " 

"Oh,  not  political  at  all!  There's  a  proposition — I 
had  no  idea  it  was  theirs — to  land  our  deck  passengers 
on " 

"On  TurnbulFs  or  Natchez  Island  I" 

Ramsey  breathed  an  audible  amazement. 

"Exactly,"  said  the  player.  "Well,  I  had  the  ill 
luck  to  call  their  scheme  a  bad  name  or  two." 

"Good!  Now,  sir,  up  they  come  here  a-demanding 
o'  me  to  put  you  ashore,  'where  he'll  get  himself 
lynched,'  says  they." 

"Oh,  bless  my  soul!"  cried  the  actor.  "If  that  was 
all  and  you  want  to  please  us,  just  let  them  alone." 

The  mate  smiled  to  Hugh  and  shook  his  head.  "  It 
wa'n't  all.  You  know  it  wa'n't.  Gad,  Mr.  Hugh, 
they  got  to  go!" 

"Oh,  they  must  not!"  begged  both  players.  A  few 
steps  away  the  bishop  and  the  judge  were  holding  an 
earnest  conversation  with  the  grandfather  Courteney, 
and  his  eye  tried  to  call  the  mate.  But  Ramsey,  hold 
ing  to  Hugh  by  his  sleeve,  gave  the  old  gentleman  a 
toss  of  her  chin,  a  jerk  of  her  curls,  and  took  the  mate 
by  a  coat  button.  Her  slim,  silken  figure  intercepting 
him,  and  his  rude  bulk  smiling  down  into  her  upturned 
face  with  a  commanding  yet  amiable  restiveness,  made 
a  picture  to  the  players  and  to  the  distant  pilot,  but 
much  more  than  a  picture  to  the  captive  himself.  He 

116 


RAMSEY  WINS  A  POINT  OR  TWO 

had  thought  he  had  been  fending  off  the  banter  of  a 
child,  but  now,  suddenly,  this  was  not  a  child.  A  be 
ing  was  here  not  entirely  mundane  nor  quite  supernal 
yet  surpassing  all  his  earlier  knowledge  of  feminine 
quality,  something  for  which  a  year's  hard  thinking 
would  not  have  found  him  a  definition.  Holding  his 
button,  she  spoke  low: 

"Please  change  that  order."  What  mysterious  com 
pulsion  there  was  in  that  ' '  please ' ' !  Her  fingers  tapped 
Hugh.  "He  wants  it  changed — for  me.  We'll  be  re 
sponsible!" 

" Oh,  you  will ! "  The  big  man  did  not  look  at  Hugh; 
his  smile  broadened  on  their  common  captor.  Her  an 
swering  eyes  laughed,  but  even  in  them,  deep  down,  he 
saw  a  pleading  ardor  at  once  so  childlike,  so  womanly, 
and  so  celestial  that  suddenly  the  deck  seemed  gone. 

"Please  change  it!  quick!"  she  murmured  again, 
"for  us!" 

He  felt  an  inward  start  and  saw  a  vision — of  the 
future — with  those  two  in  the  midst  of  it.  His  bright 
ening  glance  went  belatedly  to  Hugh,  and  verily  there 
was  more  of  Hugh  also  than  he  had  ever  seen  before, 
but  the  crass  significance  of  his  smile  was  quite  lost  on 
the  pair. 

"Yes,"  insisted  Ramsey,  "we  want  it  changed,  him 
and  me — I  mean  he  and  I!" 

The  big  man's  laugh  drowned  hers.  "  Oh,  it's  plain 
either  way.  Well,  by  George!  that  is  an  argument. 
You  and  him!  Gad,  the  case  is  covered!  You  and 
him  has  got  me — by  the  hind  leg!"  He  began  to  turn 

117 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

away,  for  yonder/ apart  from  commodore,  judge,  and 
bishop,  but  with  Madame  Hayle  at  his  side,  stood  the 
captain,  giving  him  a  sign  which  he  promptly  passed 
on  up  to  the  pilot.  "By  the  hind  leg,"  he  repeated, 
whereat  a  titter  broke  from  the  averted  face  of  old 
Joy,  while  Ramsey  stood  agape  at  her  success. 

"They  stay — the  twins — stay  aboard?"  she  asked 
the  actors,  Hugh,  and  the  mate  in  turn. 

"Lord,  yes!"  said  the  latter. 

On  tiptoes  of  gratitude  she  had  parted  her  lips  to 
say  more,  when  the  air  overflowed  with  the  long  bel 
low  of  the  boat.  "Oh,"  she  cried  protestingly  in  the 
din,  "but  that's  to  land!" 

His  reply  was  unheard,  but  a  shake  of  his  head  re 
assured  her  as  he  moved  toward  the  elder  Courteneys, 
whom  bishop  and  judge  had  left,  and  who  now  stood 
alone  awaiting  him.  She  faced  Hugh.  He  was  tell 
ing  the  actor's  wife  that  this  landing  was  to  get  a 
physician.  Ramsey  touched  him  and  spoke  low: 

"We're  going  to  have  an  awful  time.  Don't  you 
think  so?" 

He  did  not  say.  The  great  bell  tolled  thrice.  She 
waved  him  to  look  at  the  people  ashore,  of  all  sorts 
and  shades,  coming  down  to  the  wharf-boat  to  see 
them,  but  suddenly,  invited  by  a  glance  from  his  fa 
ther,  he  stepped  away  to  him.  "Humph!"  she 
laughed  to  old  Joy,  and  started  to  join  her  mother, 
who  was  leaving  the  deck.  But  the  mother  motioned 
her  back.  "Where  are  you  going?"  whined  Ram 
sey. 

118 


RAMSEY  WINS  A  POINT  OR  TWO 

"To  Lucian." 

The  daughter  halted,  aghast.  "Has  he  got  it?" 
But  her  mother  went  on  without  reply.  She  turned  to 
the  players  and,  when  they  smiled  invitingly,  rejoined 
them.  When  she  inquired  their  name  they  said  it  was 
Gilmore. 

"Will  you  tell  me  about  the  Quakeress?"  she  asked. 

The  husband  said  he  would.  "But  you  don't  mean 
now,"  he  qualified,  "when  so  many  things  are  happen- 
ing?" 

"N-no,"  she  replied  grudgingly,  and  presently  added: 
"I'm  afraid  my  brother's  got  the  cholera."  But  then 
she  brightened  triumphantly.  "Anyhow,"  she  said, 
"the  mate  didn't  know  that."  The  engine  bells  jin 
gled,  the  wheels  paused,  and  the  shore  appeared  to 
drift  down  upon  them,  pushing  the  crowded  wharf- 
boat  before  it.  "What  d'you  reckon  this  beautiful 
boat  is  saying  to  herself  right  now?  "  she  asked. 

"She  ought  to  say,"  critically  put  in  the  bishop, 
behind  her,  to  the  senator,  while  she  turned  and  cast 
her  head-to-foot  scrutiny  up  and  down  the  two,  "  that 
for  the  welfare  of  that  wharf-boatful  of  men  and  boys, 
and  of  the  homes  they  live  in,  she'd  best  not  land,  after 
all." 

"That's  what  she  is  saying!"  defensively  cried  Ram 
sey,  and,  sure  enough,  while  she  laughed  the  scape-pipes 
roared  and  the  wheels  backed  till  the  wharf-boat  stood 
still.  At  the  same  time  the  pilots  changed  watch. 
The  captain  sauntered  to  the  forward  rail.  The  com 
modore,  with  the  mate  and  Hugh,  went  below.  So 

119 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

closely  did  the  actor's  eyes  follow  them  that  Ramsey 
asked:   "What  are  they  going  to  do?" 

"Going  ashore  in  the  yawl,  I  hope,  for  a  doctor." 

"And  medicines,"  added  some  one. 

"And  for  a  priest,"  disparagingly  said  the  smiling 
bishop  as  they  moved  to  the  shoreward  edge  of  the 
roof.  "  Large  demands  our  deck  passengers  are  mak- 
ing." 

"An  outrage!"  said  the  senator.  "It's  an  outrage 
that  they,  who  wouldn't  have  dared  whimper  a  month 
ago  in  their  own  country,  should  be  allowed  to  behave 
this  way  here!" 

"It  isn't!"  said  Ramsey,  squarely  in  his  face.  There 
was  a  general  start,  old  Joy  groaned,  and  Ramsey's 
eyes,  though  still  in  his,  looked  frightened;  yet  there 
was  in  her  tone  and  bearing  something  so  pertinent 
and  worthy,  even  so  womanly,  that  she  had  nearly 
every  one  on  her  side  in  a  moment  and  the  two  play 
ers  audibly  murmured  approval. 

The  senator  grew  benign.  "My  fair  young  lady," 
he  said,  "if  your  father,  Gideon  Hayle,  were  captain 
here  he'd  have  those  people  off  this  boat  in  short 
metre." 

"  He  wouldn't ! "  said  Ramsey.  Her  eyes  flashed  and 
widened.  Then  as  they  darted  round  upon  the  actor 
her  most  tinkling  laugh  broke  out,  and  she  caught  his 
wife's  arm  and  rocked  her  forehead  on  it,  the  laugh  re 
curring  in  light  gusts  between  her  words  as  they  came 
singingly:  "He  wouldn't  ...  he  wouldn't  ...  he 
wouldn't." 

120 


RAMSEY  WINS  A  POINT  OR  TWO 

"There  they  go,"  said  a  voice,  and  down  on  the 
waters  directly  beneath  appeared  the  white  yawl  like 
a  painted  toy,  but  full  of  men.  The  commodore  was 
there  and  the  mate.  Beside  the  mate  sat  the  young 
German  who  had  fought  the  twins. 

"That's  the  one  they  call  Otto,"  said  Ramsey, 
though  how  she  knew  is  to  be  wondered;  and  some 
body,  to  amplify,  added: 

"Otto  Marburg.  They're  taking  him  along  so  the 
others  will  be  quiet  till  he  comes  back." 

"Humph!"  said  Ramsey,  arching  her  brows  to  old 
Joy  and  the  Gilmores  and  by  her  own  glance  direct 
ing  theirs  to  the  aftermost  figure  in  the  yawl.  It  was 
Hugh.  He  was  steering. 


121 


XIX 
THIS  WAY  TO  WOMANHOOD 

NOON  came  with  a  beauty  of  sky  as  if  it  smiled  back 
to  the  smiles  of  a  land  innocent  of  pain,  grief,  or  strife. 

It  found  the  Votaress  under  full  headway,  with  a 
physician  aboard  and  Bayou  Sara  one  great  reach  and 
two  great  bends  behind.  In  a  stateroom  of  her  texas, 
by  madame's  grateful  acceptance  of  the  captain's 
offer,  lay  Lucian,  torn  with  pain  but  bravely  meek, 
with  Julian  in  close  attendance,  Ramsey  excluded,  and 
the  mother  looking  in  often,  though  very  busy  yet  with 
the  doctor  on  the  lower  deck. 

In  the  middle  of  the  forenoon,  invited  by  the  captain, 
the  bishop  had  held  divine  service  in  the  ladies'  cabin 
and,  praying  for  his  country,  found  himself  praying 
also,  resoundingly  and  with  tears,  for  the  "  strange  peo 
ple"  down  under  his  bended  knees,  while  out  on  the 
boiler  deck  the  disputation  concerning  them  steadily 
warmed  and  spread,  the  committee  of  seven  feeling 
themselves  for  the  moment  baffled  but  by  no  means 
beaten — baffled,  for  their  casual  brush  with  Ramsey 
had  most  surprisingly,  not  to  say  unfairly,  discredited 
their  cause.  "Gideon  Hayle's  daughter"  had  become 
as  universally  known  by  sight  as  "John  Courteney's 
son,"  and  all  about  among  the  male  cabin  passengers 

122 


THIS  WAY  TO  WOMANHOOD 

her  method  of  debate— "It  won't!  They  don't!  He 
wouldn't!  We  shouldn't!" — with  a  mirth  often  pro- 
vokingly  unlike  hers — was  the  fashion  and  had  won 
two  or  three  small  victories. 

"The  side  that  laughs,  nowadays  and  hereabouts," 
agreed  the  two  players,  "wins."  But  they  said  it  aside 
from  Ramsey,  who,  they  had  begun  to  fear,  would  be 
sadly  spoiled,  the  juveniles  were  so  humbly  looking  up 
to  her,  and  so  many  grown-ups  sought  her  to  draw  out 
her  brief  but  prompt  utterances  upon  the  situation  and 
repeat  them  elsewhere  to  those  who  liked  their  seats 
so  much  more  than  anything  else.  They  tried  to  keep 
her  with  them  and  off  the  absorbing  theme  and  were 
not  without  success. 

Just  now  the  word  had  run  all  through  the  boat  that 
the  next  turn  would  bring  her  into  the  "Raccourci," 
or,  as  every  one  but  the  players  called  it,  "Raccourci 
Cut-off."  Counting  up-stream,  it  was  the  second  of 
four  great  shortenings  of  the  river,  which,  in  the  brief 
century  and  a  half  since  the  country  had  become  a 
white  man's  possession,  had  reduced  a  hundred  and 
twenty  miles  of  its  wandering  course  to  half  as  many 
within  a  straight  overland  distance  of  thirty.  Won 
derful  to  Ramsey  was  the  story  of  it.  The  kindly  Gil- 
more  told  it  with  a  pictorial  and  personal  interest  that 
made  it  seem  as  if  he  himself  had  planned  and  super 
vised  the  whole  work.  One  of  the  shortenings  was 
Shreve's  Cut-off,  made  only  twenty-one  years  before 
this  birth  year  of  the  Votaress.  Yonder  it  lay,  just 
veering  into  the  remotest  view,  where  Red  River,  over 
twelve  hundred  miles  from  its  source  in  the  Staked 

123 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Plains  beyond  the  Rocky  Mountains,  swept,  two  thou 
sand  feet  wide,  into  the  Mississippi  without  broaden 
ing  the  "Father  of  Waters"  a  yard. 

Yet  why  look  there,  so  distantly,  when  here  between, 
right  here  under  the  boat's  cut-water,  was  the  Rac- 
courci,  barely  four  years  old?  The  Votaress  was  in  it, 
half  through  it,  before  either  Ramsey  or  Mrs.  Gil- 
more  could  be  fully  informed,  and  now  their  attention 
was  beyond  even  their  own  command.  For  yonder 
ahead,  miles  away  in  Shreve's  Cut-off,  riding  the 
strong  current  under  Turnbull's  Island,  came  the  Re 
gent,  finest  and  speediest  of  Gideon  Hayle's  steamers. 

So  late  in  the  season  her  passengers  were  few  and  she 
was  not  utterly  smothered  in  a  cargo  of  cotton  bales, 
yet  her  freight  deck  showed  a  goodly  brown  mass  of 
them,  above  which  her  snowy  form  gleamed  against 
the  verdant  background  of  the  forested  island,  as 
dainty  as  a  swan,  while  her  gliding  stem  raised  on 
either  side  a  silver  ribbon  of  water  that  arched  itself 
almost  to  her  gunwales. 

"Each  to  her  own  starboard/'  answered  the  Regent's 
mellow  bell  to  the  bell  of  the  Votaress.  Her  whistle 
whitened  and  trumpeted  in  salute,  and  on  jack-staff 
and  verge-staff  her  rippling  flags  ran  up  and  dipped, 
twice,  thrice,  to  the  answering  flags  of  the  Courteney 
boat.  Well  forward  on  her  hurricane-deck  her  cap 
tain,  whom  many  on  the  Votaress  pointed  out  by 
name,  stood  alone.  Amid-ships  her  cabin-boys  lined 
her  cook-house  guards.  Her  negro  crew  swarmed 
round  her  capstan  with  their  chantey-man  on  its  head 
and  sent  over  the  gliding  waters  the  same  stalwart  per- 

124 


THIS  WAY  TO  WOMANHOOD 

version  of  the  wilderness  hymn  of  "Gideon's  Band"  to 
which  the  twins  had  danced  the  night  before.  Now 
the  lone,  high  voice  of  the  leader  sang: 

"Fus'  come  de  animals,  two  by  two, 
Fus'  come  de  animals,  two  by  two, 
Fus'  come  de  animals,  two  by  two, 
De  elephantine  and  de  kanguiroo," 

and  now,  while  he  held  the  key-note  through  the  re 
frain's  whole  first  line,  the  chorus  rolled  up  from  an 
octave  below: 

"Do  you  belong  to  Gideon's  Band? 
Here's  my  heart  an'  here's  my  hand  I 
Do  you  belong  to  Gideon's  Band? 
Fight'n'  fo'yo'  home!" 

No  song  is  so  poor  that  it  may  not  thrill  a  partisan 
devotion.  Ramsey  stood  on  her  toes.  Down  in  his 
berth  and  in  torture  the  shut-in  Lucian  faintly  heard, 
turned  his  gaze  to  his  brother,  whispered  "the  Re 
gent!"  and  listened  for  another  verse.  The  boats 
were  passing  widely  apart,  and  when  it  came  only 
memory  made  its  foolish  lines  plain  to  his  doting  ear: 

"Nex'  come  de  boss  and  den  de  flea, 
Nex'  come  de  hoss  and  den  de  flea, 
Nex'  come  de  hoss  and  den  de  flea, 
De  camomile  and  de  bumblebee. 
Do  you  belong  to  Gideon's  Band? 


FightV  fo'yo' home!" 
125 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

On  the  last  line  the  singers  were  half  a  mile  down 
stream,  in  Raccourci  Cut-off,  and  Ramsey  and  the 
Votaress  were  well  started  up  the  ten-mile  reach  from 
Red  River  Landing  to  Fort  Adams. 

How  swiftly  and  incessantly  the  scene  changed. 
Down  in  a  stateroom  near  the  boiler  deck  some  be 
ginner  on  the  horn  was  dejectedly  playing  "  A  Life  on 
the  Ocean  Wave,"  but  even  with  pestilence  aboard  and 
a  brother  stricken  with  it  what  an  exalted,  exalting  life 
was  a  life  on  this  mighty  stream!  Flat  lands?  Flat 
waters?  It  was  the  highest,  widest  outlook  into  the 
world  of  nature  and  of  man  she  had  ever  had.  Monot 
onous? — when  one  felt  oneself  a  year  older  to-day  than 
yesterday  and  growing  half  a  month's  growth  every 
hour?  In  yesterday's  childishness  she  had  begun  at 
Post  Forty-six  to  keep  count  of  all  the  timber  rafts  and 
flatboats  met,  and  here  in  this  long  stretch  came  three 
more  of  the  one  and  five  of  the  other,  with  men  hur 
rahing  to  her  from  them — men  as  wild  as  the  wilder 
ness,  yet  with  homes  and  families  away  back  up  the 
great  tributaries  and  their  tributaries.  And  here  were 
mile-wide  cotton  fields,  with  the  black  people  hoeing  in 
them  and  looking  no  bigger  than  flocks  of  birds  feed 
ing.  And  here  came  another  steamboat — and  yonder 
another!  The  very  drift  logs,  so  countlessly  frequent, 
vast  trees  from  vast  forests,  some  of  them  not  yet 
dead,  told  to  her  sobering  mind  in  tragic  dumb  show  as 
they  came  gliding  and  plunging  by,  the  age-long  drama 
of  their  rise,  decline,  and  fall.  Unbrokenly  green,  yes, 
forever  the  one  same  green,  were  the  low  willow  and 

126 


THIS  WAY  TO  WOMANHOOD 

cottonwood  jungles  of  the  creeping  shores;  but  while 
the  "labboard"  shore  was  still  Louisiana  the  "stab- 
board"  was  now  her  own  native  Mississippi. 

Yes,  these  wild  shores  were  States — States  of  the 
great  Union,  the  world's  hope;  Jackson's,  Clay's,  Web 
ster's  Union,  which  "must  and  shall  be  preserved," 
"now  and  forever,  one  and  inseparable."  Somewhere 
between  these  shores,  moreover,  and  not  behind  but 
away  on  up-stream,  probably,  Mr.  Watson  said,  in 
Dead  Man's  Bend,  was,  once  more,  the  Antelope.  In 
the  long  wait  at  Bayou  Sara,  where  Hugh  and  the  out 
landish  Otto— who  could  speak  French — had  found  the 
priest  while  the  commodore  and  the  mate  were  getting 
the  doctor,  the  Antelope  had  reappeared,  swept  up,  and 
foamed  by,  and  now  was  so  far  ahead  that  in  hardly 
less  than  another  hundred  and  sixty  miles  could  she  be 
again  overtaken.  But  to  Ramsey,  even  without  the 
Antelope  or  any  or  all  of  the  sights  and  facts  of  land 
scape  and  history,  no  moment  could  go  stale  while  the 
tale  of  Phyllis  and  the  Quakeress  waited  like  funds  in 
a  bank,  and  while  the  commodore,  the  captain,  and 
Hugh,  the  pilots,  the  mate,  the  Gilmores,  the  judge, 
general,  bishop,  squire,  senator,  Otto  Marburg  in  his 
green  coat,  and  dozens  and  scores  of  others  were  all 
over  the  boat,  each  more  and  more  a  story,  a  study, 
as  hourly  she  grew  older. 

On  the  bench  close  behind  her  in  the  pilot-house  a 
lady  with  needlework,  a  gentleman  with  De  Bow's 
Review  (the  squire's  sister  and  brother-in-law),  had 
begun  to  talk  with  the  'Gilmores  and  presently  men- 

127 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

tioned  the  twins,  speaking  in  such  a  tone  of  doom 
as  to  give  Ramsey  a  sudden  panic. 

"It's  fine!"  said  the  husband,  praising  Julian's  de 
votion  to  his  stricken  brother.  "And  they  are  fine. 
Their  faults — which  you've  had  occasion  to  discover, 
sir — are  spots  on  the  sun;  the  faults,  madam,  of  all 
our  young  Southern  gentlemen " 

"Would  you  say  of  all?"  asked  the  actor's  wife. 

"No!"  said  the  other  lady,  "no,  not  of  all!"  and 
her  husband  was  glad  to  stand  corrected. 

"No,"  he  admitted,  "but  still  of  almost  all;  faults 
of  which  we  may  almost  say,  sir,  that  we  may  almost 
be  proud!" 

"Oh,  well,"  begged  his  wife,  "please  almost  don't 
say  it!  They're  the  faults  of  our  ' peculiar  institu 
tion'  and  I  wish  our  'peculiar  institution'  were — " 
She  sewed  hard. 

"  In  the  deep  bosom  of  the  ocean  buried,"  suggested 
her  husband  to  the  players.  "  Why,  honestly,  so  do  I. 
But  it's  not,  and  can't  be,  and  as  long  as  it  can't  be 
we " 

"Oh,  well,"  said  his  wife,  "don't  let's  begin  on  that." 

Reckless  of  institutions  Ramsey  turned.  "Is  my 
brother  worse?"  she  broke  in,  but  a  white-jacket  en 
tered  with  the  dinner-bell  and  spoke  softly  to  old  Joy. 
"  Yes,"  said  Ramsey  to  him,  "  I'm  Miss  Hayle.  What 
is  it?  Is  my  brother  worse?" 

"Miss  Hayle,  Mr.  Hugh  Co'teney  make  his  comp'- 
ments— 

Ramsey  laughed  in  relief. 
128 


THIS  WAY  TO  WOMANHOOD 

"Yass'm,  an'  say'  cap'm  cayn'  come  to  de  table  an' 
yo'  ma  she  cayn't  come " 

"  I  know  she  can't.     Is  my  brother ?" 

"And  de  commodo'  he  at  de  gemp'men's  table,  an' 
so  he,  Mr.  Hugh,  he  'p'inted  to  de  ladies'  table,  an'  will 
you  please  fo'  to  set  in  de  place  o'  yo'  ma?  " 

"Oh,rid-ic-ulous!  Who?  me?  I?"  The  laugh  grew 
plaintive. 

"Yes,  you;  why  not?"  said  the  pilot  at  the  wheel, 
with  his  eyes  fixed  far  up  the  river. 

But  Ramsey  glanced  at  her  short  skirts  and  laughed 
to  all  by  turns:  "Oh,  it's  just  some  ridiculous  mis 
take!" 

"No,  miss,  'tain't  no  mistake.  All  de  yetheh  ladies 
incline  de  place."  Every  one  laughed.  "Oh,  he  on'y 
off'  it  to  one!  But  when  she  say  fo'  to  off'  it  to  you 
den  dey  all  say  de  same;  yass'm,  sawt  o'  in  honoh  o' 
yo'  ma." 

"They're  afraid  that  seat'll  give  'em  the  cholera," 
said  the  pilot  in  grim  jest,  still  gazing  up-stream,  but 
the  ladies  cried  out  in  denial  for  all  their  sex. 

"I  accept,"  said  Ramsey,  with  a  downward  pull  at 
her  draperies.  "How's  my  brother?" 

"Thank  y 'ma'am,"  was  the  bowing  waiter's  only 
reply.  He  tripped  down  the  pilot-house  steps  and 
away. 

"Your  brother,"  said  the  squire's  sister  as  they  all 
followed,  "isn't  in  nearly  so  much  pain,  we  hear." 

Ramsey  flashed :  "  Does  that  mean  better — or  worse?" 

"Why — we — we  can't  always  be  sure." 
129 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Ringading  tingalingaty,  ringadang  ding!"  sang  the 
festive  bell  up  and  down  the  deck  to  which  they  began 
to  descend  by  a  narrow  stair,  old  Joy  at  the  rear. 
Madame  Hayle,  ascending  by  another  with  the  Bayou 
Sara  priest,  espied  the  nurse  and  beckoned  her.  The 
pilot,  high  above,  observed  the  three  as  they  met, 
although  his  ear  was  bent  to  a  speaking-tube.  Now 
he  answered  into  it:  "Yes,  sir.  .  .  .  Yes,  close  above 
the  point — Point  Breeze,  yes,  sir." 

As  he  resumed  his  up-stream  gaze  he  saw  old  Joy, 
still  at  the  stair,  stand  as  if  lost  and  then  descend  alone 
while  madame  and  the  priest  moved  toward  the  sick 
room.  The  helm  went  gently  over  and  the  Votaress 
rounded  the  point,  but  the  priest  waited  outside  where 
madame  had  gone  in,  and  when  the  door  reopened 
enough  to  let  one  out  it  was  Julian  who  grimly  con 
fronted  him,  holding  a  pen,  half  concealed. 

"My  brother  declines  to  see  you,  sir." 

A  flash  came  from  the  eyes  of  the  priest,  but  the 
youth  repeated:  "My  brother  declines  to  see  you,  sir." 

The  visitor  caught  breath  to  speak,  but  the  great  bell 
pealed  for  another  landing  and  burial,  and  madame 
came  out.  She  addressed  him  a  few  words  in  French, 
and  with  an  austere  bow  to  Julian  he  humbly  turned 
away  at  her  side, 


130 


XX 

LADIES'  TABLE 

HUGH  stood  at  the  head  of  the  midday  dinner-table, 
waiting  for  a  full  assembly  of  its  guests.  The  Vicks- 
burg  merchant  and  his  wife,  the  planter  from  Milli- 
ken's  Bend  and  his  wife,  also  stood  at  their  places. 

The  two  ladies  glanced  about  as  if  listlessly  noting 
the  cabin's  lavish  arabesques  and  gilding,  while  each 
really  studied  and  knew  the  other  was  studying  the 
captain's  son.  For  this  tale  which  we  tell,  they  saw. 
It  was  " a-happmin'"  before  their  eyes  and,  in  degree, 
to  themselves.  Hugh  and  his  father,  the  commo 
dore  and  madame,  the  first  mate,  the  twins,  Ramsey, 
and  the  committee  of  seven — who,  we  shall  see,  were 
not  taking  discomfiture  meekly — were  scarlet  threads 
in  the  story's  swiftly  weaving  fabric — cogent  reasons, 
themselves,  why  these  two  ladies  had  helped  vote 
Ramsey  to  the  seat  next  Hugh. 

His  face,  Hugh's,  was  not  easy  reading.  Certain 
shadows  cast  on  it  by  that  part  of  his  mind  just 
then  busiest  were  quite  unintelligible.  Deciphered  they 
would  have  meant  a  solemn  joy  for  his  broadening  ac 
countability;  an  awesome  anxiety  and  distressed  eager 
ness  to  meet  and  fill  that  accountability  as  fast  as  it 
broadened.  He  was  just  then  recalling  one  of  Ramsey's 

131 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

queries  of  the  evening  before,  when  she  had  seemed 
so  much  younger  than  now,  and  when,  nevertheless,  a 
germ  of  fellowship  had  sprung  up  between  them;  that 
word  of  hers  about  "feeling  oneself  widen  out  of  one 
self,"  etc.  He  did  not  at  present  feel  himself  nearly 
so  much  as  he  felt  things  round  about  him  growing 
and  growing. 

The  Votaress  had  grown,  grown  wonderfully,  and  the 
story  happening,  the  play  being  acted  on  her  three 
decks  at  once,  was  neither  story  nor  play  to  him. 
Which  fact  was  one  of  the  few  things  the  two  gentle 
students  of  his  face  made  out  to  read.  However,  it 
quite  rewarded  them;  it  went,  itself,  so  well  into  the 
story. 

And  certainly,  as  even  the  Gilmores  would  have  said, 
it  is  not  when  our  spiritual  vision  sees  things  at  their 
completest  values  that  all  the  world's  a  stage  and  its 
men  and  women  merely  players.  Nor  is  it  at  our  best 
that  we  discern  our  own  story,  as  a  story,  while  it 
happens.  It  is  a  poor  eye  that  sees  itself.  When 
Ramsey  arrived  at  the  table  Hugh's  gaze  was  so  big 
with  the  reality,  not  the  romance,  of  things  on  all  the 
three  decks  that  she  had  to  laugh  a  little  to  keep  her 
balance. 

Yet  her  question  was  an  earnest  and  eager  one:  "Is 
my  brother  better,  or  is  he  worse?" 

The  toll  of  the  bell  on  the  deck  above — to  land,  as 
we  have  said,  near  Point  Breeze — came  like  a  spectral 
reply,  invoking,  as  it  did,  new  trouble  unknown  to  her 
though  just  beneath  her  feet. 

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LADIES'  TABLE 

"He's  better  not  to  be  worse,"  said  Hugh,  and  when 
she  frowned  whimsically  he  explained:  "His  sickness 
is  not  quite  the  same  as  that  on  the  lower  deck." 

"How  is  it  different?"  she  asked,  unconsciously 
keeping  the  whole  company  of  the  ladies'  table  on  their 
feet.  At  the  gentlemen's  table,  just  forward  of  them 
and  tapering  slenderly  away  in  the  long  cabin's  white- 
and-gilt  perspective,  that  grosser  majority  who  had 
come  only  to  feed  were  mutely  and  with  stooped 
shoulders  feeding  like  pigeons  from  a  trough,  and  far 
down  at  its  end  the  white-haired  commodoje  had  taken 
his  seat,  with  senator,  judge,  squire,  general,  and  the 
seventeen-year-old  Hayle  boy  nearest  him  on  his  right 
and  left.  The  bishop  was  not  there.  He  was  at  the 
ladies'  table,  paired  with  the  judge's  sister — a  leaden 
load  even  for  a  bishop. 

"Your  brother's  illness  is  so  much  slower,"  Hugh  said. 

"So,  then — he — he  had  it  when  he  came  aboard?" 

"He  had  it  when  he  came  aboard,"  assented  Hugh, 
moving  for  the  group  to  be  seated.  "But 

"Wait,"  said  Ramsey.  "Mustn't  we  all  be  as  gay 
and  happy  as  we  can?  "  And  when  every  one  but  the 
judge's  sister  playfully  said  yes  she  turned  to  the 
Vicksburg  merchant:  "Then  will  you  change  places 
with  Mr.  Gilmore?" 

Faith,  he  would !  It  paired  him  with  the  actor's  wife, 
and  his  wife  with  the  actor.  Gayety  began  forthwith. 
"And  will  you  change — with — with  you?"  Ramsey 
asked  the  planter  of  Milliken's  Bend  and  the  squire's 
brother-in-law. 

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GIDEON'S  BAND 

Indeed  they  would.  The  change  not  only  paired 
each  with  the  other's  wife  but  brought  the  brother-in- 
law  next  to  Ramsey.  Underfoot  meantime  the  en 
gine  bells  jingled,  overhead  the  scape-pipes  roared, 
and  in  every  part  the  boat  quivered  as  her  great  wheels 
churned  or  was  strangely  quiet  as  they  paused  for  an 
other  signal.  So  all  sat  down,  well  aware  what  the 
landing  was  for,  and  began  blithely  to  converse  and 
be  waited  on,  as  if  the  world  were  being  run  primarily 
for  their  innocent  delight. 

What  a  Sabbath  feast  was  there  spread  for  a  bishop 
to  say  grace  upon,  and  what  travellers'  hunger  to  match 
it.  Among  Hugh  and  Ramsey's  dozen,  if  no  further, 
how  the  conversation  rippled,  radiated,  and  out-tin 
kled  and  out-twinkled  the  fine  tablewares.  One  almost 
forgot  his  wine  or  that  the  boat  and  her  wheels  had 
stopped;  might  have  quite  forgotten  had  not  certain 
sounds,  starting  in  full  volume  from  the  lower  deck  but 
arriving  under  the  cabin  floor  faint  and  wasted — ema 
ciated,  as  you  might  say — stolen  up  and  in.  A  dili 
gent  loquacity  contrived  to  ignore  the  most  of  them. 
The  soft  chanting  of  the  priest  as  he  walked  down  the 
landing-stage  and  out  upon  the  damp  brown  sands, 
followed  by  the  bearers  of  the  new  pine  box  and  by  a 
short  procession  of  bowed  mourners,  perished  unheard 
at  the  table;  but  many  noises  more  penetrative  were 
also  much  more  discomfiting,  and  it  was  fortunate 
that  the  talk  of  the  bishop  and  others  could  charm 
most  of  them  away  even  from  the  judge's  nervous  sis 
ter,  who,  nevertheless,  amid  such  remote  themes  as 

134 


LADIES'   TABLE 

Jenny  Lind,  Nebraska,  coming  political  conventions, 
and  the  new  speed  record  of  the  big  Eclipse  in  the  four 
teen  hundred  and  forty  miles  from  New  Orleans,  could 
not  help  a  light  start  now  and  then.  It  was  good,  to 
Hugh  and  to  Ramsey,  to  see  how  the  actor,  Gilmore, 
despite  this  upward  seepage  of  ghostly  cries — faint 
notes  of  horror,  anguish,  and  despair — attenuated 
groans  and  wailings  of  bodily  agony — held  the  eyes  of 
the  ladies  nearest  him  with  tales  of  travel  and  the  the 
atre,  and  mention  of  the  great  cut-off  of  1699,  which 
they  would  soon  pass  and  must  notice.  But  quite  as 
good  was  it  to  the  wives  of  Vicksburg  and  Milliken's 
Bend  to  observe  with  what  fluency  Hugh,  commonly 
so  quiet,  discoursed  to  Mrs.  Gilmore  and  to  Ramsey  on 
other  river  features  near  at  hand:  Dead  Man's  Bend, 
Ellis  Cliffs,  Natchez  Island,  the  crossing  above  it, 
Saint  Catherine's  Creek,  and  Natchez  itself. 

"Where  I  was  born!"  said  Ramsey.  "Largest  town 
in  Mississippi  and  the  most  stuck-up." 

The  other  Mississippians  laughed  delightedly. 

"We  stop  there,"  said  Hugh,  "to  put  off  freight." 

"Mr.  Courteney,"  asked  Ramsey,  "what  is  a  'cross 
ing'?" 

There  were  new  lower-deck  noises  to  drown  and 
Hugh  welcomed  the  slender  theme.  "The  channel 
of  a  great  river  in  flat  lands,"  he  said,  "is  a  river 
within  a  river.  It  frets  against  its  walls  of  slack 
water " 

"I  see! — as  the  whole  river  does  against  its  banks!" 

"Yes.    Wherever  the  shore  bends,  the  current,  when 

135 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

strong,  keeps  straight  on  across  the  slack  water  till  it 
hits  the  bend.  Then  it  swerves  just  enough  to  rush 
by,  and  miles  below  hits  the  other  shore,  swerves  again, 
and  crosses  in  another  long  slant  down  there." 

"Except  where  it  breaks  through  and  makes  a  cut 
off!" 

"But  a  cut-off  is  an  event.  This  goes  on  all  the 
time,  in  almost  every  reach;  so  that  pilots,  whether 
running  down-stream  in  the  current  or  up-stream  in 
the  slack  water,  cross  the  river  about  as  often  as  the 
current  does." 

"Hence  the  term!"  laughed  Ramsey. 

"I  think  so.    You  might  ask  Mr.  Watson." 

"  No,  I'll  ask  him  what  a  reach  is — and  a  towhead — 
and  a  pirooter — oh,  don't  you  love  this  river?" 

While  the  talk  thus  flowed,  what  delicacies — pas 
tries,  ices,  fruits — had  come  in  and  served  their  ends! 
But  also  against  what  sounds  from  the  underworld 
had  each  utterance  still  to  make  headway:  commands 
and  threats  and  cries  of  defiance  and  rage,  faint  but 
intense,  and  which  all  at  once  ceased  at  the  crack  of 
a  shot!  The  judge's  sister  let  out  a  soft  note  of  af 
fright  and  looked  here  and  there  for  explanation.  In 
vain.  The  Vicksburg  merchant  lightly  spoke  across 
the  table: 

"Shooting  alligators,  bishop?" 

"Oh!"  broke  in  the  judge's  sister,  aggrieved,  "that 
was  for  no  alligator."  She  appealed  to  a  white-jacket 
bringing  coffee:  "Was  that  for  an  alligator?" 

"I  dunno'rn.  Mowt  be  a  deer.  Mowt  be  a  b'ar." 
136 


LADIES'  TABLE 

His  bashful  smirk  implied  it  might  be  none  of  the 
three.     Ramsey  looked  at  Hugh  and  Hugh  said  quietly 
to  a  boy  at  his  back: 
"Go,  see  what  it  is." 


137 


XXI 

RAMSEY  AND  THE  BISHOP 

"HIGH  water  like  this,"  casually  said  the  planter, 
next  Ramsey,  "  drives  the  big  game  out  o'  the  swamps, 
where  they  use,  and  makes  'em  foolish." 

"Yes,"  said  the  bishop.  "You  know,  Dick"— for 
he  and  the  planter  were  old  acquaintances — "not  far 
from  here,  those  long  stretches  of  river  a  good  mile 
wide,  and  how  between  them  there  are  two  or  three 
short  pieces  where  the  shores  are  barely  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  apart?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Dick  and  others. 

"  Well,  last  week,  on  my  down  trip,  as  we  rounded  a 
point  in  one  of  those  narrow  places,  there,  right  out  in 
mid-river,  was  a  big  buck,  swimming  across.  Two 
swampers  had  spied  him  and  were  hot  after  him  in  a 
skiff." 

"Oh,"  cried  Ramsey,  "I  hope  he  got  away!" 

"Why,  I  partly  hoped  he  would,"  laughed  the 
bishop,  "and  partly  I  hoped  they'd  get  him." 

"Characteristic,"  she  heard  the  planter  say  to  him 
self. 

"And  sure  enough,"  the  tale  went  on,  "just  as  his 
forefeet  hit  the  bank —  But  there  Hugh's  messenger 
reappeared,  and  as  Hugh  listened  to  his  murmured 

138 


RAMSEY  AND  THE  BISHOP 

report  the  deer's  historian  avoided  oblivion  only  by 
asking: 

"Well,  Mr.  Courteney,  after  all,  what  was  it?" 
"Tell  the  bishop/'  said  Hugh  to  the  boy. 
"'T'uz  a  man,  suh,"  the  servant  announced,  and 
when  the  ladies  exclaimed  he  amended,  "leas'wise  a 
deckhan',  suh." 

"Thank  Heaven!"  thought  several,  not  because  it 
was  a  man  but  because  the  bells  jingled  again  and  the 
moving  boat  resumed  her  own  blessed  sounds.  But 
the  bishop  was  angry — too  angry  for  table  talk.  He 
had  his  suspicions. 

"Did  deckhands  make  all  that  row?" 
"Oh,  no,  suh;  not  in  de  beginnin',  suh." 
"Wasn't  there  trouble  with  the  deck  passengers?" 
"Yassuh,  at  fus';  at  fus',  yassuh;  wid  dem  and  dey 
young  leadeh.     Y'see,  dey  be'n  so  long  aboa'd  ship  dey 
plumb  stahve  fo'  gyahden-sass  an'  'count  o'  de  sickness 
de  docto'  won't  'low  'em  on'y  some  sawts.     But  back 
yondeh  on  sho'  dey's  some  wile  mulbe'y  trees  hangin' 
low  wid  green  mulbe'ys,  an'  comin'  away  f'om  de  grave 
dey  make  a  break  fo'  'em.     But  de  mate  he  head'  'em 
off.      An'  whilse  de  leadeh  he  a-jawin'  at  de  mate  on 
sho',  an'  likewise  at  de  clerk  on  de  b'ileh  deck  an'  at 

the  cap'm  on  de  roof 

"In  a  foreign  tongue,"  prompted  the  bishop,  to 
whom  that  seemed  the  kernel  of  the  offence. 

"Yassuh,  I  reckon  so;  in  a  fond  tongue;  yassuh." 
"About  his  sick  not  having  proper  food?"  asked 
Ramsey. 

139 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Yass'm — no'm — yass'm!  An'  whilse  he  a-jawin', 
some  o'  de  crew  think  dey  see  a  chance  fo'  to  slip  into 
de  bresh  an'  leave  de  boat.  An'  when  de  mate  whip' 
out  his  'evolveh  on  'em,  an'  one  draw  a  knife  on  him, 
an'  he  make  a  dash  fo'  dat  one,  he — dat  deckhan'— 
run  aboa'd  so  fas'  dat  he  ain't  see  whah  he  gwine  tell 
it's  too  la-ate." 

The  bishop  tightened  his  lips  at  Hugh  and  peered 
at  the  cabin-boy:  "How  was  it  too  late?" 

"De  deckhan'  he  run  ove'boa'd,  suh." 

The  ladies  flinched,  the  men  frowned.  "But,"  said 
the  querist,  "meantime  the  mate  had  fired,  hmm? 
Did  he— hit?" 

"Dey  don't  know,  suh.     De  deckhan'  he  neveh  riz." 

"Awful!"  The  bishop  and  Hugh  looked  steadily  at 
each  other.  "So  that  also  we  owe  to  our  aliens!" 

"Yes,"  said  Hugh. 

"We  don't,"  said  Ramsey  softly,  yet  heard  by  all. 

Across  the  board  Mrs.  Gilmore  said  "Oh!"  but  in 
the  next  breath  all  but  the  judge's  sister  laughed,  the 
bishop,  as  Hugh  and  he  began  to  rise,  laughing  most. 

"Wait,"  said  Ramsey,  laying  a  hand  out  to  each 
and  addressing  Hugh.  "How  are  those  sick  down 
stairs  going  to  get  the  right  food?" 

The  cabin-boy  almost  broke  in  but  caught  himself. 

"Say  it,"  said  Hugh. 

"Why,  dem  what  already  sick  dey  a-gitt'n'  it. 
Yass'm,  dey  gitt'n'  de  boat's  best.  Madam  Hayle 
and  de  cap'm  dey  done  see  to  dat  font  de  staht. 
H-it's  de  well  uns  what  needs  he'p." 

140 


RAMSEY  AND  THE  BISHOP 

"But,"  said  Ramsey,  still  to  Hugh,  "for  sick  or 
well — the  right  food — who  pays  for  it?" 

"The  boat." 

"Who  pays  the  boat?"  she  asked,  and  suddenly, 
blushing,  saw  her  situation.  Except  the  bishop  and 
the  judge's  sister,  who  were  conversing  in  undertone — 
except  them  and  Hugh — the  whole  company,  actu 
ally  with  here  and  there  an  elbow  on  the  board,  had 
turned  to  her  in  such  bright  expectancy  as  to  give  her  a 
shock  of  encounter.  But  mirth  upheld  her,  and  lean 
ing  in  over  the  table  she  shifted  her  question  to  the 
smiling  bishop:  "Who  pays  the  boat?" 

"The  boat?  Why— ha,  ha!— that's  the  boat's 
lookout." 

"It  isn't,"  she  laughed,  but  laughed  so  daintily  and 
in  a  gayety  so  modestly  self-justified  that  the  group 
approved  and  the  Vicksburg  man  asked  her: 

"Who  ought  to  pay  the  boat?" 

"We!"  she  cried.  "All  of  us!  It's  in  the  Bible 
that  we  ought!"  She  looked  again  to  the  bishop. 
"Ain't  it?" 

"Why,  I  don't  recall  any  mention  of  this  matter 
there." 

"Nor  of  strangers?"  she  asked,  "nor  of  sick  folks?" 
and  her  demure  mirth,  not  flung  at  him  or  at  any  one, 
but  quite  to  itself  and  for  itself,  came  again. 

"Ah,  that's  another  affair!"  he  rejoined.  He  felt 
her  and  Hugh,  with  half  the  rest,  saying  to  them 
selves,  "It  is  not!"  but  was  all  the  more  moved  to  con 
tinue:  "My  fair  daughter,  you  prepare  the  way  of  the 

141 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Lord.  Brethren  and  sisters,  I  want  you  to  gather  with 
me  here  as  soon  as  those  yonder  are  through" — 
a  backhanded  toss  indicated  the  children's  table, 
whose  feasters  showed  no  sign  that  they  would  ever 
be  through  at  all.  "We  must — every  believer — and 
whosoever  will — on  this  passenger-deck — spend  an 
hour — more  if  the  spirit  leads — in  prayer  for  this 
pestilence  to  be  stayed."  He  fastened  his  gaze  on 
Hugh;  no  senator  was  present  to  overtop  him  now, 
and  certainly  this  colt  of  John  Courteney's  should 
not.  Yet  the  largeness  with  which  the  colt's  eyes 
stared  through  and  beyond  him  was  significant  to  all. 

"And  we  must  do  more!"  he  persisted. 

"We  shall,"  said  Hugh. 

"We  must!"  said  the  bishop;  "we  must  beseech 
God  for  a  spiritual  outpouring.  We  have  on  this  boat 
the  stranger  of  our  own  land  and  the  sick  of  our  own 
tongue:  the  stranger  to  grace  and  the  sick  in  soul,  who 
may  be  eternally  lost  before  this  boat  has  finished  her 
trip;  and  as  much  as  the  soul's  worth  outweighs  the 
body's  is  it  our  first  duty  to  help  them  get  religion!" 

With  her  curls  lowered  nearly  to  the  table  Ramsey 
— ah,  me! — laughed.  Her  notes  were  as  light  as  a 
perfume,  but  to  the  bishop  all  perfumes  were  heavy. 
He  turned  to  the  actor.  "  Isn't  that  so,  brother?  " 

"Oh,  bishop,  you  know  a  lot  better  than  I  do." 

"He  doesn't,"  tinkled  Ramsey,  and,  as  the  bishop 
swung  back  to  her — "Do  you?"  she  ingratiatingly 
challenged  him.  "No,  you  don't!  You  know  you 
don't!" 

142 


RAMSEY  AND  THE  BISHOP 

The  company  would  have  laughed  with  her  if  only 
to  save  their  face,  and  when  he  made  a  very  bright 
retort  they  laughed  the  heartier.  They  rose  with 
Hugh.  Ramsey  said  she  wished  she  knew  again  how 
her  brother  was,  and  Hugh  sent  his  servant  to  inquire. 
As  all  loitered  aft,  the  bishop  held  them  together  a 
moment  more. 

"You  don't  object  to  such  a  meeting?"  he  asked 
Hugh. 

"Not  if  you  don't  alarm  or  distress  any  one.  The 
doctor  forbids  that."  While  Hugh  so  replied,  the  cir 
cle  was  joined  by  the  commodore.  The  bishop  flared : 

"Doctors  always  forbid!  How  can  we  exhort  sin 
ners  without  alarming  or  distressing  them?" 

Hugh's  answer  was  overprompt:  "I  don't  know, 
sir." 

But  Ramsey,  drawing  the  Gilmores  with  her,  came 
between.  "Just  a  bit  ago,"  she  said  to  the  bishop, 
"didn't  you  say  yes,  we  must  all  be  as  gay  and  happy 
as  we  can?" 

"I  did,  verily.  But  surely  that  shouldn't  prevent 
this." 

"Oh,  surely  not!"  exclaimed  both  the  players. 

"It  needn't,"  said  Ramsey.  "But  if  we  five"— 
Gilmores,  Courteneys,  and  herself — "and  some  others 
— help  you  with  your  meeting  to-day  will  you  help  us 
with  ours  to-morrow?" 

"  If  I  can,  assuredly !  But  how  will  you  help  me  to 
day,  my  young  sister?" 

On  three  fingers  the  young  sister — so  lately  his 
143 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

daughter — counted:  "First,  we'll  get  the  people  to 
come;  we'll  tell  them  you're  not  going  to  alarm  or 
distress  anybody.  Second,  if  you  forget  and  begin  to 
do  it  we'll  remind  you!  And,  third,  we'll  take  up  the 
collection!" 

The  senator  laughed  so  much  above  the  rest  that  the 
bishop  colored  as  he  said:  "I  never  exhort  and  collect 
at  the  same  time." 

"Oh-h!"  sighed  Ramsey.  "We  must  collect,  you 
know,  to  pay  our  share,  each  of  us,  for  the  care  of 
the  sick.  And  we  can't  collect  to-morrow;  we'll  all 
be  so  busy  getting  up  our  own  meeting."  Her  eyes 
wandered  to  the  senator,  so  fervently  was  he  urging 
some  matter  upon  the  commodore. 

"What,"  asked  the  bishop,  turning  to  the  players, 
"is  to-morrow's  meeting  to  be  for?" 

"Why,"  brightly  said  the  wife,  "just  to  keep  every 
one  as  gay  and  happy  as  we  can."  But  Ramsey  added: 
"And  to  raise  money  for  the  not-sick  emigrants,  to 
get  them  the  right  food." 

"  Ho,  ho !    Another  collection ! " 

"No,  only  admission  fees.  Six  bits  for  the  play, 
four  bits  for  the  dance." 

Half  offended,  half  amused,  the  bishop  swelled. 
"And  you  ask  me" —  he  laughed,  but  she  had  turned 
away  and  he  reverted  to  the  players — "on  top  of  our 
prayers  for  God's  mercy  upon  our  bodies  and  souls 
you  ask  me  to  help  get  up  a  play  and  a  dance!" 

Eagerly,  amid  a  general  merriment  that  was  not  quite 
merry,  the  Gilmores  answered  with  amused  disclaimers 

144 


RAMSEY  AND  THE  BISHOP 

for  themselves  and  copious  excuses  for  him.  Ramsey's 
eyes,  like  Hugh's,  were  on  the  commodore  and  the  sen 
ator,  who  were  starting  off  together.  The  commodore's 
nod  called  Hugh  and  he  moved  to  overtake  them.  The 
boy  whom  Hugh  had  sent  to  the  texas,  returning, 
sought  to  intercept  him,  but  Hugh  passed  on  and  the 
messenger  found  Ramsey.  She  had  just  been  rejoined 
by  her  old  nurse,  and  to  both  servants  her  questions 
were  prompt  and  swift.  Their  low  replies  plainly  dis 
turbed  her,  and  she  wheeled  to  the  bishop  where  he 
still  stood  addressing  the  Gilmores  and  a  dozen  oth 
ers  in  a  manner  loftily  defensive.  He  forestalled  her 
speech  with  good-natured  haste.  "Now,  if  our  gay 
and  happy  young  sister  will  ask  me  to  do  something 
befitting  a  minister  of  the  gospel,"  he  began 

"Amen  to  dat!"  said  old  Joy,  and  as  Ramsey's  eyes 
showed  tears  the  speaker  paused. 

"All  right,"  she  quietly  said.  "Come  to  my  sick 
brother.  Won't  you,  please?" 

"Why — why,  yes,  I — I  will.  Cer-certainly  I  will. 
Yet — really — if  I'm  forbidden  to  alarm  him" — his 
smile  could  not  hide  his  sense  of  mortal  risk. 

"Oh,  he's  already  alarmed!" 

"He's  turrified!"  softly  said  old  Joy. 

"Why,  then,  the  moment  we're  through  our  meet- 
ing- 

" Don't  begin  it!"  said  Ramsey.  "It  can  wait 
heaps  better  than  he  can.  He's  waiting  now  and  beg 
ging  for  you.  Come!  You  needn't  be  afraid;  I'll  go 
with  you!"  She  laughed. 

145 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

,"No!"  cried  Joy.  "Lawd,  Mahs'  Bishop,  she 
mus'n't!" 

"She  need  not,"  said  the  bishop.  "But  for  me  to 
go  now,  before  I — why,  I  couldn't  come  back  and  min- 
gle- 

"  Oh,  come ! "  The  girl  drew  him  by  the  sleeve.  But 
the  Gilmores  held  her  back  and  he  went  on  alone,  his 
face  betraying  a  definite  presentiment  as  he  glanced 
round  in  response  to  a  clapping  of  hands. 

"Oh,  thank  you!"  cried  Ramsey.  "Gawd  bless 
you!"  droned  Joy.  "We'll  run  your  meeting  while 
you're  gone!"  called  Ramsey.  "And  we'll  pray  for 
you!  Won't  we?"  she  asked  the  players,  and  they 
and  others  answered:  "Yes." 


146 


XXII 
BASILS  AND  WHAT  HE  SAW 

FOR  these  twenty  hours  of  constant  activity  one 
young  passenger,  save  only  when  asleep  in  his  berth, 
had  contemplated  the  Votaress  and  her  swarming  man 
agers  and  voyagers  with  a  regard  different  from  any 
we  have  yet  taken  into  account.  The  Gilmores,  softly 
to  each  other,  termed  him  "a  type."  To  the  face  of 
nature  he  seemed  wholly  insensible.  As  the  gliding 
boat  incessantly  bore  him  onward  between  river  and 
sky,  shore  and  shore,  he  appeared  never  to  be  aware 
whether  the  forests  were  gray  or  green,  the  heavens 
blue  or  gray,  the  waters  tawny  or  blue.  No  loveliness 
of  land  or  flood  could  deflect  his  undivided  interest  in 
whatever  human  converse  he  happened  to  be  nearest 
as  he  drifted  about  decks  in  a  listless  unrest  that  kept 
him  singled  out  at  every  pause  and  turn.  His  very 
fair  intelligence  was  so  indolently  unaspiring,  so  intol 
erant  of  harness,  as  we  may  say,  and  so  contentedly 
attuned  to  the  general  mind,  mind  of  the  multitude, 
that  the  idlest  utterance  falling  on  his  ear  from  any 
merest  unit  of  the  common  crowd  was  more  to  him 
than  all  the  depths  or  heights  of  truth,  order,  or  beauty 
that  learning,  training,  or  the  least  bit  of  consecutive 
reasoning  could  reveal.  Earlier  he  had  not  lacked 
books  or  tutelage,  but  no  one  ever  had  been  able  to 

147 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

teach  him  what  they  were  for.  This  was  Basile  Hayle, 
the  overdressed  young  brother  of  the  twins.  Now  that 
his  seventeen  years  had  ripened  in  him  the  conviction 
that  he  was  entitled,  as  the  phrase  is,  "  to  all  the  rights 
of  a  man  and  all  the  privileges  of  a  boy,"  he  seemed 
yet  to  have  acquired  no  sense  of  value  for  any  fact 
or  thought  beyond  the  pointblank  range  of  the  five 
senses.  He  could  not  have  read  ten  pages  of  a  serious 
book  and  would  have  blushed  to  be  found  trying  to 
do  it. 

He  was  not  greatly  to  blame.  That  way  of  life  was 
much  the  fashion  all  about  him,  and  he  was  by  every 
impulse  fashionable.  Moreover,  as  he  measured  suc 
cess  by  the  crowd's  measure,  it  was  the  way  of  life 
oftenest  successful,  the  way  of  his  father.  He  did  not 
see  the  difference  between  the  father's  toiling  up  that 
way  and  his  idling  down  it.  So,  at  any  rate,  agreed 
the  indulgent  Gilmores,  reading  him  quite  through  in 
a  few  glances,  while  all  about  the  boat  those  who 
thought  they  knew  best  pronounced  him  more  like 
Gideon  Hayle  in  his  regard  for  "folks  just  as  folks" 
than  were  either  the  twins  or  the  sister,  from  all  three 
of  whom  his  impulses  kept  him  amiably  aloof. 

Of  the  three  brothers  certainly  he  had  soon  become 
the  most  widely  acceptable  among  not  only  the  young 
people  of  the  passenger  guards  but  also  the  male  com 
monalty  of  the  boiler  deck.  In  a  state  of  society  which 
he,  as  "a  type,"  reflected  they  saw  themselves;  saw 
their  own  spiritual  image;  their  unqualified  straight 
forwardness,  their  transparent  simplicity  of  mind  and 

148 


BASILS  AND  WHAT  HE  SAW 

heart,  their  fearlessness,  their  complacent  rusticity, 
their  childish  notions  of  the  uses  of  wealth,  their  per 
sonal  modesty  and  communal  vanity,  their  happy 
oblivion  to  world  standards,  their  extravagance  of 
speech,  their  political  bigotry,  their  magisterial  down- 
rightness,  their  inflammability,  and  their  fine  self-reli 
ance.  They  saw  these  traits,  we  say,  reflected  in  him 
as  in  a  flattering  hand-glass,  perceived  the  blemishes 
rather  plainer  than  the  charms,  and  liked  them  better. 

So  it  was  that  our  friend  the  senator  had  early  dis 
covered  Basile  and  later  had  found  a  capital  use  for 
him.  In  him  he  saw  a  most  timely  opportunity,  one 
not  afforded  by  anybody  besides.  He  showed  the  youth 
marked  attentions,  affirming  in  him  all  the  men's  rights 
and  boys'  privileges  he  had  ever  thought  of,  got  him 
assigned  to  his  sick  brother's  place  at  table,  presented 
him  to  the  committee  of  seven,  called  him  Gideon  by 
mistake,  and  at  the  right  moment  made  him  an  instru 
ment,  not  to  say  tool,  by  diverting  his  idle  course 
through  the  crowd  into  a  highly  successful  soliciting 
of  signatures  to  the  committee's,  or  let  us  say  his  own, 
the  senator's,  petition. 

Unlucky  task!  An  exceptional  feature  of  the  Vota 
ress  was  that  her  passenger  guards  ran  aft  in  full  width 
all  round  her  under  the  stern  windows  of  the  ladies' 
cabin.  Beneath,  the  lower  deck  ended  in  a  fantail  of 
unusual  overhang,  around  whose  edge  curved  the  stout 
bars  of  the  "bull-ring,"  to  fence  it  off  from  the  billow 
ing  white  surge  that  writhed  after  the  rudder  blade  and 
the  trailing  yawl,  so  close  below.  Among  the  petition's 

149 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

subscribers  were  several  pretty  girls  of  an  age  at  which 
their  only  important  business  was  beauty  and  levity 
and  who  gave  small  heed  to  the  document's  purport, 
readily  assuming  that  nothing  they  were  asked  to 
sign  needed  to  be  taken  seriously.  There  was  much 
laughter  over  the  performance.  They  turned  it  into  a 
"Signing  of  the  Declaration,"  patterned  after  the  old 
steel  engraving.  One  of  them,  as  the  scroll  lay  open 
on  the  rail  under  her  pen  hand,  unwittingly  set  foot  in 
a  scrubbing  bucket  kept  there  with  a  line  attached  for 
bailing  water  from  the  river,  and  was  so  unnerved  by 
the  fun  of  it  that  all  at  once  the  scroll  flirted  back  into 
scroll  form  and  fell  through  the  whirling  air  that  eddied 
behind  the  boat.  Yet  it  had  the  luck  to  drop  upon  the 
deck  below,  and  there  presently  an  immigrant  stood 
mutely  gazing  up  with  it  in  his  lifted  hand.  Otto 
Marburg  came  and  stood  looking  up  beside  him. 

Dropping  the  bucket's  line  through  the  balusters 
under  the  rail,  Basile  stepped  over  the  guards  and 
proceeded,  while  the  girls  acted  out  their  girlish  dis 
tresses,  to  let  himself  down.  The  foolish  exploit  was 
sufficiently  unsafe  and  painful  to  be  its  own  reward, 
the  rough  line  cutting  his  hands  and  forcing  him,  as 
soon  as  he  dared,  to  drop  into  the  arms  of  the  two  men. 
With  them  and  others  he  passed  from  sight  between 
the  great  wheels  but  soon  was  with  the  pretty  sign 
ers  again,  coming  up  alone  by  way  of  the  cook-house 
and  pantry.  His  hands  showed  ugly  red  scars  as  he 
brushed  away  a  few  flies  that  liked  his  perfumery  and 
had  stubbornly  followed  him  from  below. 

150 


BASILS  AND  WHAT  HE  SAW 

But  the  fun  was  over.  It  was  not  his  galled  palms 
but  his  pallid  face  that  struck  the  young  company  with 
a  fralik  dismay.  His  whole  bearing  was  transformed 
and  betrayed  him  smitten  with  emotions  for  which  he 
found  no  speech.  Had  it  made  him  ill,  they  asked, 
going  down  by  that  dreadful  rope?  No,  he  was  not  ill 
at  all.  But  when  they  vacantly  proposed  to  resume 
the  signing  he  exclaimed  almost  with  vehemence  that 
he  had  names  enough,  and  left  them,  to  return  the  pe 
tition  to  the  senator. 

This  was  an  incident  of  the  forenoon.  As  he  de 
livered  the  paper  the  senator  spoke  a  pleased  word 
and  then  gazed  on  him  in  surprise.  "  Why,  what's  the 
matter?  Sick?" 

"No,  I'm  not  sick." 

"But,  look  here,  where — where' s  your  own  signa 
ture?" 

"You  can't  have  it." 

"Oh,  you  want  to  sign,  don't  you?" 

"No."  A  sudden  anguish  filled  the  boy's  face. 
"Not  for  all  the  gold  in  California.  God  A'mighty, 
sir,  I've  been  down  there  and  seen  those  people!" 

"Oh!  my!  dear!  fellow!  If  we  let  mere  sights  and 
sounds — of  things  that  can't  be  helped — upset  us — 
There's  the  dinner-bell — come,  have  a  cocktail  with 
me — a  Rofignac!  .  .  .  Ah!  general — judge — wet  your 
whistle  with  us?" 

The  general  and  the  judge,  accepting,  looked  sharply 
at  Basile.  "Why— what's  the  matter?  Sick?" 

But  he  went  with  them  to  the  bar  and  to  the  board. 

151 


XXIII 
A  STATE  OF  AFFAIRS 

WATSON  was  in  the  pilot-house,  though  not  at  the 
wheel. 

So  early  of  a  Sabbath  afternoon,  in  the  middle  of  his 
partner's  watch,  he  might  well  have  been  in  his  texas 
stateroom  asleep,  but  to  a  Mississippi  River  pilot 
Sunday  afternoon,  or  any  afternoon,  or  forenoon,  or 
midnight,  or  dusk  or  dawn,  on  watch  or  off,  the  one 
thing  in  this  world  was  the  river.  Else  what  sort  of  a 
pilot  would  he  be,  when  the  whole  lore  of  its  thousands 
of  miles  of  navigation  was  without  chart,  light,  or  bea 
con,  a  thing  kept  only  in  pilots'  memories,  a  lamp  in  a 
temple? 

Glancing  down  forward  of  the  bell,  he  was  reminded 
of  a  certain  young  lady  the  sight  of  whom  on  the  pre 
vious  evening  just  after  his  brush  with  Hayle's  twins, 
standing  there  before  Hugh  Courteney  with  her  arms 
akimbo,  had  led  him  to  say :  "  If  that's  to  be  the  game 
I'm  in  it."  He  wished  she  were  there  now,  or  up  here 
again  in  the  pilot-house  asking  her  countless  questions 
about  this  endlessly  interesting  world's  highway.  He 
would  be  answering  that  the  mouth  of  Red  River  was 
now  twenty  miles  behind,  the  mouth  of  Buffalo  Bayou 

152 


A  STATE  OF  AFFAIRS 

ten  and  of  Homochitto  River  four;  that  right  here 
they  were  in  the  great  cut-off  of  a  hundred  and  fifty-odd 
years  before.  He  would  say  they  were  passing  up  the 
west  shore  because  the  current  was  over  yonder  on  the 
east  side,  Palmetto  Point,  and  that  behind  there,  in 
land,  lay  the  great  loop  of  still  water  which  had  once 
been  part  of  the  river.  He  would  explain  that  now  the 
slender  Homochitto  ran  through  that  still  water  length 
wise,  for  miles,  until,  within  forty  rods  of  the  Mis 
sissippi,  it  recoiled  again  to  launch  in  at  last  farther 
down,  opposite  Black  Hawk  Point,  still  in  sight  astern. 
And  he  would  tell  how,  over  here  on  this  west  side, 
Red  River  was  yet  only  four  miles  away  and  actually 
sent  Grand  Cut-off  Bayou  across  into  the  Mississippi, 
but  likewise  swerved  away  southward  through  seven 
leagues  more  of  wet  forest  before  it  finally  surrendered 
to  the  mightier  stream.  All  this  would  he  tell,  without 
weariness,  to  one  who  loved  his  great  river. 

Yet  really  he  was  in  the  pilot-house  at  this  time  not 
chiefly  for  the  river,  nor  the  girl,  nor  the  Votaress, 
though  the  Votaress  was  new,  with  kinks  of  character 
quite  her  own  and  important  to  be  learned.  He  was 
there  because  the  stateroom  given  Hayle's  twins  in 
the  texas  was  next  to  his,  and  they,  rarely  in  their  life 
having  restricted  themselves  to  tones  of  privacy  and 
being  now  especially  in  a  state  of  storm  and  stress, 
had  made  sleep  impossible  even  to  a  pilot  off  watch 
after  a  midday  Sunday  dinner.  Lounging  in  his  berth, 
he  had  overheard  things  which  ought  to  be  told  to  one 
Courteney  or  another  early,  though,  of  course,  casually. 

153 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Meantime  he  enjoyed  not  telling  his  partner,  at  whose 
back  he  quietly  chatted  while  the  partner  stood  with 
hands  and  foot  on  the  wheel  and  with  eyes  well  up  the 
river,  holding  the  jack-staff  close  to  his  "mark"  far 
ahead  in  the  next  bend. 

"I  couldn't  stay,"  drawled  Watson.  "Noth'n'  'twixt 
the  sick  one  an'  me  but  a  half -inch  bulkhead." 

"Cholery  can't  scratch  through  a  half-inch  bulk 
head,"  said  the  partner. 

"Sounds  kin.  Funny  what  little  bits  o'  ones  kin. 
An'  the  sawt  o'  keen,  soft  way  he  hollas  an'  cusses 
through  his  sot  teeth  an'  whines  an'  yaps  into  his  piller 
— why,  he's  suffered  enough  by  now  to  be  dead  five 
times  over." 

"That  sufferin',  that  ain't  the  peggin'-out  stage." 

"  No,  I  know  that,  an'  I  don't  misdoubt  but  what 
he's  a-goin'  to  git  well." 

"Hmm! — sorry  fo'  that.  What's  goin'  to  kyore 
him?" 

"His  simon-pyo'  cussedness!  He's  so  chuck  full  of 
it — looks  like  it's  a-p'isonin'  the  p'ison  o'  the  cholery." 

"Pity!"  said  the  partner.  .  .  .  "Humph!  Now 
what's  up?" 

To  see  what  was  up,  Watson  rose  and  looked  down. 
On  the  roof  below,  evidently  having  come  there  for 
privacy,  were  the  commodore,  the  senator,  and  Hugh. 
Watson  loitered  from  the  pilot-house  and  disappeared. 

Down  on  the  roof  the  commodore  and  the  senator 
conversed  across  Hugh's  front.  The  statesman,  with 
heavy  "dear  sirs"  and  heavier  smiles,  was  button- 

154 


A  STATE  OF  AFFAIRS 

holing  the  elder  Courteney,  who  at  every  least  pause 
affably  endeavored  to  refer  him  to  Hugh.  The  grand 
son's  turn  to  speak  seemed  not  to  have  arrived.  The 
senator  was  trying  to  keep  it  from  arriving  and  Hugh 
was  glum.  Hence  it  may  be  doubted  if  the  senator's 
cigar  was  really  cocked  as  high,  or  that  his  silk  hat  was 
as  dingy,  his  very  good  teeth  as  yellow,  his  cheeks  as 
hard,  or  his  forehead  as  knotty  as  they  appeared  to 
Hugh,  or  that  his  tone  of  superiority,  so  overbearing 
last  night,  so  ingratiating  to-day,  was  any  worse  for 
the  change.  Hugh  was  biassed — felt  bias  and  anger  as 
an  encumbering  and  untimely  weight.  In  self-depre 
ciating  contrast  he  recalled  a  certain  young  lady's  airy, 
winning  way — airy  way  of  winning — and  coveted  it  for 
himself  here  and  now:  a  wrestler's  nimble  art  of  over 
coming  weight  by  lightness;  of  lifting  a  heavy  antagonist 
off  his  feet  into  thin  air  where  his  heaviness  would  be 
against  him.  His  small,  trim  grandfather  had  it,  in 
good  degree;  was  using  it  now.  Would  it  were  his  own 
in  this  issue,  where  the  senator  held  in  his  hand  the 
folded  petition,  having  already  vainly  proffered  it  to 
the  commodore,  who  had  as  vainly  motioned  him  to 
hand  it  to  Hugh.  Would  the  art  were  his!  But  he 
felt  quite  helpless  to  command  it,  lacking  the  joyous 
goodness  of  heart  which  in  the  young  lady  so  irresisti 
bly  redeemed  what  the  senator,  the  bishop,  and  the 
judge's  sister,  to  themselves,  called  her  amazing — and 
the  Gilmores  to  each  other  called  her  American — bad 
manners.  It  made  Hugh  inwardly  bad-mannered  just 
to  feel  in  himself  this  lack,  and  tempted  him  to  think 

155 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

what  a  comfort  it  would  be  to  apply  the  wrestler's  art 
physically  and  heave  the  senator  overboard. 

Said  that  gentleman — "For  you  saw  I  wouldn't  let 
the  matter  come  up  at  the  table.  A  lot  of  those  men 
who  signed  this  paper — which  your  grandson  sug 
gested  last  night,  you  know—  He  smiled  at  Hugh. 
"Now,  I  am  never  touchy,  and  I  know,  commodore, 
that  you're  not.  But,  Lord,  so  many  of  us — maybe 
Democrats  a  little  more  than  Whigs — are!  We  take 
our  politics,  like  our  bread,  smokin'  hot."  He  put 
away  his  smile.  "  My  dear  sir,  to  us  the  foreigner — as 
you  saw  last  night  at  supper — has  become  a  political 
problem,  a  burning  question.  Yet  I  propose  to  keep 
this  whole  subject  so  unmenacing  to  you  personally, 
you  owners  of  this  boat,  that  I  won't  let  a  word  be 
risked  where  any  one  might  take  even  a  tone  of  voice 
unkindly." 

"So,  then,  Hugh  can  take  care  of  it." 

The  senator  tossed  a  hand  in  amiable  protest:  "Oh, 
sir,  you  see  it  much  too  small!  My  half  of  it  is  large 
enough  for  me,  with  forty  times  this  young  gentleman's 
experience.  I  don't  see  just  this  one  boat  and  trip  and 
these  few  hundred  native-American  citizens  in  deadly 
contact  with  a  few  hundred  of  Europe's  refuse.  I 
see — your  passengers  see — we  view  with  alarm — a  state 
of  affairs — and  a  test  case!" 

The  old  commodore's  eyes  flashed  to  retort,  but  the 
senator  forced  a  propitiative  smile,  adding:  "However, 
let  that  pass  just  now,  here's  something  else." 

"Is  it  also  in  that  paper?" 
156 


A  STATE  OF  AFFAIRS 

"It  is." 

"Tell  it  to  Hugh— or  let  him  read  it." 

But  as  the  old  gentleman  would  have  moved  away, 
the  senator,  ignoring  the  suggestion,  stepped  across 
his  path: — 

"Last  night,  commodore,  this  matchless  new  boat" 
— he  paused  to  let  the  compliment  sink  in,  his  eye 
wandering  to  Watson,  who  had  sauntered  down  from 
the  texas  roof — "this  Votaress,  swept  past  everything 
that  had  backed  out  at  New  Orleans  ahead  of  her." 

"Built  to  do  it,"  put  in  Hugh  while  the  commodore, 
by  a  look,  drew  Watson  to  them  and  the  senator 
flowed  on. 


157 


XXIV 
A  SENATOR  ENLIGHTENED 

"Bur,  lying  at  Bayou  Sara  this  morning/'  said  the 
senator,  "everything  worth  counting  left  us  behind 
again." 

"For  the  time  being,"  said  Hugh. 

"Good  for  you/'  said  the  senator.  "Mr.  pilot,  this 
paper,  of  a  hundred  signatures,  petitions  this  boat 
to  put  off  her  foreigners  at  Natchez  Island.  If  that  is 
refused,  when  and  where  are  we  likely  to  overhaul  the 
Antelope  f" 

"  Antelope  f  Let's  see.  We'd  still  be  a-many  a  bend 
behind  the  Antelope  at  sundown  but  fo'  one  thing.  At 
Natchez  she's  got  to  discharge  an  all-fired  lot  o'  casting 
an'  boilers,  things  she  can't  put  ashore  'ithout  han'- 
spikes,  block-an'-taickle  an'  all  han's  a-cuss'n'  to  oncet. 
Like  as  not  we'll  catch  her  right  there." 

"Good  again;  sundown!"  said  the  senator.  "Now, 
commodore,  this  petition  begs " 

The  commodore  tried  to  wave  him  to  Hugh  but  the 
senator's  big  hand  gently  prevented.  "It  begs,"  he 
went  on,  "and  every  friend  of  Gideon  Hayle  and  John 
Courteney  on  this  boat  insists,  that  Madame  Hayle 
be  required  to  leave  this  suicidal  work  she's  doing  and 
with  her  daughter  and  youngest  son  be  put  aboard  the 

158 


A  SENATOR  ENLIGHTENED 

Antelope  to  join  her  husband  ahead  of  all  bad  news." 
With  his  under  lip  pushed  out  he  smiled  into  the  com 
modore's  serene  face. 

Hugh  spoke.  "The  Votaress  being  slow?"  he  in 
quired. 

"Not  at  all!  But,  my  young  friend,  the  Votaress 
can't  hold  funerals  and  outrun  the  Antelope  at  the 
same  time." 

The  commodore  had  turned  to  Watson:  "Want  to 
see  me?"  The  two  moved  a  few  paces  aft. 

"Then  it  isn't,"  Hugh  asked  the  senator," that  your 
hundred  signers  of  this  thing  are  afraid  madame  will 
get  the  cholera?"  He  took  the  petition's  free  end  be 
tween  thumb  and  finger  and  softly  pulled.  But  its 
holder  held  on. 

"Why,  yes,"  said  the  holder-on,  "we  fear  that,  too. 
Good  Lord,  she  may  have  the  contagion  now!"  It 
gave  him  grim  amusement  to  note  that  the  grandson's 
face  was  as  quiet  as  the  old  man's,  yet  as  hard  and 
heavy  as  any  of  the  Antelope's  big  castings.  He 
thought  how  much  better  it  were  to  have  this  chap 
for  an  adherent  than  opponent. 

"  Yet  you're  all  willing,"  slowly  pressed  Hugh,  while — 
with  their  pull  on  the  paper  increasing — they  here  and 
the  commodore  and  Watson  yonder  returned  the  bow 
of  the  bishop  as  he  came  from  below  and  passed  on  up 
to  the  sick-room — "you're  willing  to  send  the  cholera 
aboard  the  Antelope?" 

"Willing,  my  God,  no,  sir!  compelled! — to  risk  it — 
for  the  sake  of  Gideon  Hayle  and  his  people  and  of  you 

159 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

and  yours,  in  a  great  public  interest  centring  in  you 
and  them."  The  speaker  smilingly  tapped  the  hard- 
pulled  document  so  lately  urged  upon  the  grandfather. 
"We  couldn't  write  that — in  this  paper.  When  I've 
explained  that  I'll  hand  you  this — don't  pull  it." 

"Well,  then,  let  go  of  it,"  said  Hugh,  with  a  light 
jerk  which  put  it  wholly  into  his  possession. 

The  senator's  eyes  blazed,  but  when  he  saw  that 
Hugh's,  though  as  much  too  wide  as  his  own,  looked 
out  of  a  face  as  set  and  hard  as  ever,  he  recovered  his 
suavity,  puffed  his  cigar,  waved  it  abroad,  and  said: 
"That's  all  right.  Take  that  to  the  captain  at  once, 
will  you?" 

"No,"  replied  Hugh,  the  wrestler's  nimble  art  being 
as  far,  far  away  from  him  as  the  "happy  land"  of  the 
children's  hymn,  which  the  cornet  was  essaying  below. 

"No?"  questioned  the  tolerant  senator. 

"No."  Small  knots  of  passengers,  the  squire  in  one, 
the  general  in  another,  had  drawn  within  eavesdrop 
ping  range  and  Hugh  lowered  his  voice.  "Not  till  I 
hear  what  you  couldn't  write,"  he  said.  "When 
you've  explained  that  I'll  hand  him  this.  No  one's  in 
his  room,  come  there." 

As  they  reached  its  door  and  the  senator  passed  in, 
Hugh  was  joined  by  the  grandfather  and  Watson  and 
detained  some  moments  in  private  council,  with  Wat 
son  as  chief  speaker.  Then  the  commodore  returned 
leisurely  forward  toward  the  captain's  chair  while  Wat 
son  sought  the  texas  roof  and  pilot-house,  and  Hugh 
shut  himself  in  with  the  senator. 

160 


A  SENATOR  ENLIGHTENED 

They  sat  with  the  writing-table  between  them.  "I 
wish,"  said  the  senator,  "I  had  a  son  like  you.  I'd 
say:  'My  son,  the  worst  notion  in  this  land  to-day  is 
that  always  the  first  thing  to  do  is  fight,  and  that  the 
only  thing  to  fight  with  is  hot  shot.  Don't  you  believe 
it !  Don't  think  every  man's  your  enemy  the  moment 
he  differs  with  you.  He  may  be  your  best  friend. 
And  don't  think  every  enemy  wants  to  stab  you  in 
the  back.'  But,  Lord!  I  needn't  offer  a  father's  ad 
vice  to  you,  with  such  a  father — and  grandfather — 
as  you've  got. 

"  Now,  here  we  are.  It's  idle  for  me  to  tell  you  what 
we  wanted  to  put  in  that  paper  and  couldn't,  if  you 
can't  believe  that  maybe,  after  all,  I'm  a  peacemaker 
and  your  friend,  hunh?  I  don't  set  up  to  be  your  only 
friend  or  only  your  friend  or  your  friend  only  for  your 
sake.  Frankly,  my  ruling  passion  is  for  the  community 
as  a  whole;  the  old  Jacksonian  passion  for  the  people, 
sir.  If  I'm  meddling  it's  because  I  see  a  situation  that 
right  on  its  surface  threatens  one  misfortune,  and  at 
bottom  another  and  bigger  one,  to  them,  the  people — a 
public  misfortune.  I  don't  want  to  avert  just  the  chol 
era,  here  to-day,  gone  to-morrow;  I  want  to  avert  the 
lasting  public  misfortune  of  a  Courteney-Hayle  feud. 
There,  sir !  That's  my  hand !  Cards  right  down  on  the 
table!  Oh,  I'm  nothing  if  not  outspoken,  flat-footed! 
A  lot  of  those  signers  don't  see  that  bottom  meaning. 
They  don't  need  to.  But,  sir,  you  know — your  grand 
father's  always  known — that  by  every  instinct  the 
Hayles,  even  to  the  sons-in-law,  are  fighters.  They 

161 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

don't  know  any  way  to  succeed,  in  anything,  but  to 
fight.  It's  the  Old  Hickory  in  them.  Old  Hickory 
always  fought,  your  Harry  of  the  West  has  always 
compromised.  The  Hayles  loathe  tact.  They  don't 
know  the  power  of  concession  as  you  Courteneys  do. 
And  that's  why  your  only  way  to  succeed  with  them 
is  to  concede  something.  Not  everything,  not  prin 
ciple — good  Lord,  not  principle!  yet  something  defi 
nite,  visible,  conciliatory,  hunh? 

"  Mind  you,  I  hold  no  brief  for  them.  I  know  those 
twins  haven't  behaved  right  a  minute.  But  no  Hayle's 
been  let  into  this  affair,  from  first  to  last." 

The  falsehood  was  so  rash  a  slip  that  its  author 
paused,  but  when  Hugh's  face  showed  no  change  he 
resumed:  "Sir,  it  is  in  your  interest  we  ask  you  to  put 
those  foreigners  off.  If  you  don't  you'll  rouse  public  re 
sentment  up  and  down  this  river  a  hundred  miles  wide 
for  a  thousand  miles.  And  if,  keeping  them  aboard, 
you  don't  put  Madam  Hayle  and  her  daughter  on 
some  other  boat,  and  anything  happens  to  them  on 
this  one,  you'll  have  Gideon  Hayle  and  his  sons — and 
his  sons-in-law — for  your  mortal  enemies  the  rest  of 
your  lives,  long  or  short — and  with  public  sympathy 
all  on  their  side.  Oh,  I'm  nothing  if  not  outspoken! 
Why,  my  dear  boy,  if  you  don't  think  I'm  telling  you 
this  in  friendship " 

"  Call  it  so.     But  stop  it,  at  once." 

"Why— you  say  that— to  me?" 

"I  do.     Stop  it,  at  once,  or  we'll  call  it " 


"Ridiculous!    What  will  you  call  it,  sir?" 
162 


A  SENATOR  ENLIGHTENED 

"Mutiny.  The  captain  has  so  ordered — and  ar 
ranged." 

The  inquirer  drew  breath,  leaned  forward  on  an 
elbow,  and  stared.  The  stare  was  returned.  The  sen 
ator  began  to  smile.  Hugh  did  not.  The  smile  grew. 
Hugh's  gaze  was  fixed.  The  smiler  smiled  yet  more, 
but  in  vain.  Abruptly  he  ha-haed. 

"We'll  call  it  that  till  you  prove  it's  not,"  said  Hugh. 

"Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  poker  face?"  asked  the 
senator. 

"No,  sir." 

"You've  got  one,  now;  youngest  I  ever  saw.  I  wish 
I  had  it — haw,  haw!  Where'd  you  find  it?  I  doubt 
if  ever  in  your  life  you've  had  any  real  contact  with 
any  real  guile." 

"I  have,"  said  Hugh,  very  quiet,  very  angry,  yet 
with  a  joy  of  disclosure,  communicative  at  last  by 
sheer  stress  of  so  much  kept  unsaid.  "  And  I've  never 
got  over  it." 

"  Well,  well !    When  was  that? " 

"All  through  the  most  important  ten  years  of  my 
life." 

"Of  your  life!    Good  gracious!    Which  were  they?" 

"The  first  ten.  A  guile  seemingly  so  guileless  that 
yours,  compared  with  it,  is  botch  work." 

The  two  were  still  looking  into  each  other's  eyes 
when  the  latch  clicked  and  John  Courteney  stepped  in. 


163 


XXV 

"PLEASE  ASSEMBLE" 

Our  from  behind  Fritz  Island  the  Votaress  swept 
northward  into  a  deluge  of  light  from  a  sun  just  fin 
ishing  the  first  half  of  his  afternoon  decline. 

Before  her  lay,  far  and  wide,  an  expanse  of  river 
and  shore  so  fair,  without  a  noticeable  sign  of  man's 
touch,  that  one  traveller  of  exceptional  moral  daring — 
conversing  with  the  Gilmores  and  Ramsey — personified 
the  scene  as  "Nature  in  siesta."  At  the  steamer's  ap 
proach  the  picture — or,  as  the  daring  traveller  might 
have  insisted,  the  basking  sleeper — seemed  to  awaken 
and  in  a  repletion  of  smiling  content  to  stir  and 
stretch  and  every  here  and  there  to  darken  and  lighten 
by  turns  as  though  closing  and  opening  upon  the  in 
truder  a  multitude  of  eyes  as  unnumbered  as  those  of 
a  human  sort  that  looked  on  the  scene,  the  sleeper, 
from  the  beautiful  boat. 

So  for  several  minutes.  Then  the  Votaress  curved 
into  the  west  till  the  great  twin  shadows  of  her  chim 
neys  crept  athwart  the  pilot-house  and  texas,  while 
more  than  one  passenger  of  the  kind  who  tell  all  they 
know  to  whoever  will  hear  said  that  yonder  bright 
mass  of  cottonwoods  and  willows,  bathing  in  sunlight 
directly  up  the  stream,  with  open  water  shimmering  all 

164 


"  PLEASE  ASSEMBLE  " 

round  it,  was  Glasscock  Island;  that  Glasscock  Tow- 
head  lay  hidden  behind  it  just  above,  and  that  a  tow- 
head  was  an  island  in  the  making.  The  whole  view 
was  such  a  stimulus  to  the  outpouring  of  sentiment  as 
well  as  of  information,  that  one  young  pair,  each  suc 
ceeding  flutter  of  whose  heart-strings  was  more  ten 
derly  entangling  them,  agreed  in  undertone  that  the 
river's  incessant  bendings  were  steps  of  a  Jacob's  lad 
der  with  these  resplendent  white  steamers  for  ascend 
ing  and  descending  angels. 

"Yonder  comes  another  now,"  said  both  at  once. 
They  pressed  forward  to  the  foremost  boiler-deck 
guards,  among  the  many  sitters  and  standers  who 
were  trying  to  determine,  by  the  ornamental  form  of 
the  stranger's  chimney-tops  or  the  peculiar  note  of  her 
scape-pipes,  before  her  name  might  show  out  on  pad 
dle-box  or  pilot-house,  whether  she  was  the  Chancellor, 
the  Aleck  Scott,  the  Belle  Key,  or  the  Magnolia.  To  be 
either  was  to  be  famous.  The  next  moment  she  swept 
into  view  on  the  island's  sunward  side,  as  pre-eminent 
in  all  the  scene  as  though  the  sun  were  gone  and  she 
were  the  rising  moon.  The  moon  was  not  her  equal  in 
the  eyes  of  those  beholders.  On  every  deck,  from  fore 
castle  to  after  hurricane  roof,  there  were  big  spots  of 
vivid  color,  red,  green,  blue,  never  seen  in  the  moon 
and  which  were  quickly  made  out  to  be  a  high-piled 
freight  of  ploughs,  harrows,  horse-mills,  carts,  and  wag 
ons,  destined  for  the  ever-widening  Southern  fields  of 
corn  and  cotton,  sugar  and  rice.  The  passenger  with 
the  pocket  spy-glass — there  is  always  one — proclaimed 

165 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

that  her  boiler  deck  was  hung  full — as  no  deck  of  the 
moon  ever  is — of  the  finest  spoils  of  the  hunt:  geese, 
swan,  venison,  and  bear;  while  the  nakedest  eye  could 
see  at  a  glance  that  from  forward  gangway  to  stern- 
most  guard  her  bull  railings  were  up,  and  a  closer  scru 
tiny  revealed  that  the  main  load  of  her  freight  deck 
was  every  farm-bred  sort  of  living  four-footed  beast: 
horses,  mules,  beeves,  cows,  swine,  and  sheep.  She 
did  not  pass  near  though  unaware  of  the  distress  she 
avoided ;  but  in  courtly  exaggeration  she  sent  across  the 
intervening  mile  a  double  salute,  white  plumes  of  sun 
lit  steam  from  her  whistle — the  new  mode — and  the 
gentler  voice  of  her  bell,  the  older  form.  The  course 
of  the  Votaress  lay  on  the  island's  eastern  side,  and  the 
hail  and  response  of  the  two  crafts  had  hardly  ceased 
to  echo  from  the  various  shores,  or  hats  to  wave  and 
handkerchiefs  to  flutter,  when  the  flood  between  them 
began  to  widen,  a  thousand  feet  to  the  half  minute, 
and  they  parted. 

At  the  same  time,  from  the  middle  of  the  boiler  deck 
floated  a  sound  ordinarily  most  welcome  but  at  this 
time  a  distasteful  surprise:  the  dinner-bell  again.  Not 
with  festal  din,  however,  it  called,  but  with  each  soli 
tary  note  drawn  out  through  a  full  second  or  more, 
church-steeple  fashion,  and  with  a  silken  veil  tied  on 
its  tongue  to  give  each  stroke  a  solemn  softness  and 
illusion  of  distance.  Small  wonder  that  the  most  of 
the  company,  just  risen  from  "a  plumb  bait,"  turned 
that  way  and  stared,  seeing  old  Joy,  with  joyless  face, 
tolling  out  the  notes  in  persistent  monotone  while  in 

166 


"PLEASE  ASSEMBLE" 

front  of  her  stood  the  Gilmores  at  either  side  of  a  chair, 
and  on  the  chair,  also  standing,  the  daughter  of  Gideon 
Hayle.  With  her  hands  and  eyes  fastened  upon  a  writ 
ten  notice  and  with  the  bell  tolling  steadily  at  her 
back  she  tremblingly  read  aloud: 

"Fellow  travellers:  Please  assemble  at  once  in  the 
ladies'  cabin  to  supplicate  the  divine  mercy  for  a  stay 
of  the  scourge  on  this  boat,  and  in  concerted  worship 
to  seek  spiritual  preparation  for  whatever  awaits  us 
in  the  further  hours  of  our  voyage.  In  the  absence  of 
Bishop  So-and-So,  who  is  ministering  to  the  sick,  and 
at  his  request,  the  meeting  will  be  conducted  by  the 
celebrated  comedians  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gilmore,  late  of 
Placide's  Varieties,  New  Orleans." 

The  art  of  advertising  being  then  in  its  swaddling- 
bands,  this  specimen  of  it  struck  its  hearers  as  really 
creditable.  While  it  was  being  read  two  or  three  men 
rose,  and  one,  uncommonly  shaggy  and  of  towering 
height,  could  hardly  wait  for  the  last  word  before  he 
was  responding  with  the  voice  of  a  hound  on  the  trail : 
"By  the  Lord  Harry,  sis',  amen!  says  I,  that's  jest  my 
size!  I'm  a  Babtis'  exhorteh  an'  I  know  the  theatre 
air  the  mouth  o'  hell,  but  ef  you  play-acto's  good 
enough  to  run  a  prah-meet'n'  I'm  bad  enough  to  go 
to  it.  Come  on,  gentlemen,  the  whole  k'boodle  of  us, 
come  on." 

Some  brightly,  some  darkly,  a  good  halfdozen  fol 
lowed  him  into  the  cabin ;  but  the  most  remained  seated, 
staring  at  Ramsey  from  head  to  foot  and  back  again, 
some  brightly,  some  darkly,  while  the  bell  persevered 

167 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

behind  her.  She  sunk  to  her  knees  in  the  chair.  Gil- 
more  addressed  that  half  of  the  company  on  his  side 
of  her:  "Please  assemble  at  once,  will  you,  all,  in  the 
ladies'  cabin." 

And  his  wife,  on  her  side,  repeated:  "Will  you  all 
please  assemble  at  once  in  the  ladies'  cabin." 

A  few  more  rose,  but  still  the  many,  brightly  or 
darkly,  only  stared  on,  the  bell  persisting.  The  kneel 
ing  Ramsey  again  began  to  read : 

"Fellow  travellers:  Please  assemble  at  once  in  the 
ladies'  cabin  to  supplicate  the  divine  mercy  for  a 
stay  of  the  scourge  on  this  boat,  and  in  concerted 
worship " 

"Oh,  well!"  some  one  laughingly  broke  in,  "if  that's 
your  game — "  and  the  whole  company,  in  good-na 
tured  surrender,  arose  and  went  in.  But  the"bsll- 
ringers,"  as  they  were  promptly  nicknamed,  passed  on 
to  further  conquests. 

When  at  length  they  turned  to  join  the  assemblage 
the  four  had  doubled  their  number.  With  Ramsey 
was  the  commodore.  With  the  actor  was  Watson. 
With  Mrs.  Gilmore  came  old  Joy,  and,  strange  to  tell, 
due  to  some  magic  in  the  tact  of  the  senior  Courteneys, 
the  senator,  no  longer  making  botch  work  of  his  guile, 
walked  with  Hugh,  displaying  a  good-natured  loquacity 
which  he  was  glad  to  have  every  one  notice  and  from 
which  he  ceased  reluctantly  as  they  parted,  finding  no 
place  to  sit  together.  The  player  and  his  wife,  over 
looking  the  throng,  complacently  discovered  standing- 
room  only,  and  the  meeting  which  Hayle's  daughter 

168 


"PLEASE  ASSEMBLE" 

had  pledged  herself  and  them  to  "run"  was  running 
itself.  For  hardly  had  they  entered  the  saloon  when, 
from  a  front  seat  and  without  warning,  the  exhorter 
exploded  the  stalwart  old  hymn-tune  of  "Kentucky," 
and  soon  all  but  a  scant  dozen  of  the  company  followed 
in  full  cry,  though  hardly  with  the  fulness  of  the  lead 
er's  voice,  that  rolled  through  the  cabin  like  tropical 
thunder: 

"'Whedn  I  cadn  read  my  ti-tle  cle-ah 
Toe  madn-shudns  idn  the-e  ske-ies 
I'll  bid  fah-wedl  toe  ev'-rye  fe-ah 
Adn  wipe  my  weep-ign  eyes.' " 

From  the  chairman 's  seat  the  actor  kept  a  corner  of 
one  eye  on  Ramsey  and  as  the  hymn's  last  line  rolled 
away  he  stood  up.  She  had  not  sung,  but  neither  had 
she  laughed.  No  one  could  have  seen  the  moment's 
huge  grotesqueness  larger,  yet  to  the  relief  of  many 
she  had  kept  her  poise.  In  her  mind  was  the  bishop, 
overhead  in  the  texas,  consciously  imperilling  his  life  to 
save  her  brother's  soul,  and  in  the  face  of  all  drolleries 
she  strenuously  kept  her  ardor  centred  on  the  gravest 
significancies  of  the  hour,  as  if  the  bishop's  success  up 
there  hung  on  the  efficiency  with  which  this  work  of 
his  earlier  appointment  should  be  done,  down  here,  in 
his  absence.  She  saw  in  the  exhorter  a  tragic  as  well 
as  comic  problem.  Nor  was  he  her  only  perplexity. 
Another,  she  feared,  might  easily  arise  through  some 
clash  of  any  two  kinds  of  worshippers  each  devoted  to 
its  own  set  forms.  Certain  main  features,  she  knew, 

169 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

had  been  carefully  prearranged,  yet  as  the  actor  stood 
silent  about  to  ask  the  Vicksburger  to  lead  in  prayer 
she  tingled  with  all  the  exhilaration  a  ruder  soul  might 
have  felt  in  hunting  ferocious  game  or  in  fighting  fire. 
Her  soul  rose  a-tiptoe  for  the  moment  when  the  Pres 
byterians,  who  also  had  not  sung,  should  stand  up  to 
pray,  while  the  few  Episcopalians,  kneeling  forward, 
and  the  many  Baptists  and  Methodists,  kneeling  to 
the  rear,  should  find  themselves  face  to  face — nose  to 
nose,  anxiously  thought  Ramsey — with  only  the  open 
backs  of  the  chairs  between.  She  was  herself  the  last 
to  kneel,  kneeling  forward  but  doubting  if  she  ought 
not  to  face  the  other  way,  hardly  knowing  whether  she 
was  a  Catholic  or  a  Methodist;  and  she  was  much  the 
last  to  close  her  eyes.  But  the  various  postures  were 
taken  without  a  jar  and  the  modest  Vicksburger  prayed. 
His  words  were  neither  impromptu  nor  printed,  but, 
as  every  one  quickly  perceived  and  Ramsey  had  known 
beforehand,  were  memorized  and  were  fresh  from  the 
pen  of  the  actor.  Diffidence  warped  the  first  phrase  or 
two,  but  soon  each  word  came  clear,  warm  from  the 
heart,  and  reaching  all  hearts,  however  borne  back  by 
the  rapturous  yells  with  which  the  exhorter  broke  in  at 
every  pause. 

"And  though  to  our  own  sight,"  pleaded  the  suppli 
cant,  "we  are  but  atoms  in  thy  boundless  creation,  we 
yet  believe  that  prayer  offered  thee  in  love,  humility, 
and  trust  cannot  offend.  Wherefore  in  this  extremity 
of  grief  and  disaster  we  implore  thee  for  deliverance." 

Close  at  Ramsey's  back,  in  the  only  seat  whose  occu- 

170 


"PLEASE  ASSEMBLE" 

pant  her  diligent  eye  had  failed  to  light  on,  a  kneeler 
heaved  a  sigh  so  piteous  that  it  startled  her  like  an 
alarum. 

But  the  prayer  went  on:  "Drive  from  us,  O  Lord, 
this  pestilence.  Allow  it  no  more  toll  of  life  or  agony. 
Have  mercy  on  us  all,  both  the  sick  and  the  sound." 

"Have  mercy,"  moaned  the  suffering  voice  behind, 
and  Ramsey,  suffering  with  it,  wished  she  had  been 
Methodist  enough  to  kneel  with  her  face  that  way. 

"Spare  not  our  earthly  lives  alone,"  continued  the 
supplicant,  "but  save  our  immortal  souls.  Pardon  in 
us  every  error  of  the  present  moment  and  of  all  our 
past.  Forgive  us  every  fault  of  character  inherited  or 
acquired." 

"God,  forgive!"  sighed  the  voice  behind,  in  so  keen 
a  contrition  that  Ramsey,  while  the  supplication  in 
front  pressed  on,  found  herself  in  tears  of  her  own  peni 
tence.  The  mourner  at  her  back  began  responsively 
to  repeat  each  word  of  the  prayer  as  it  came  and  pres 
ently  Ramsey  was  doing  likewise,  striving  the  while, 
with  all  her  powers,  to  determine  whose  might  be  the 
voice  which  distress  so  evidently  disguised  even  from 
its  owner. 

"Enable  us,  our  Maker,"  she  pleaded  in  time  with 
the  voice  behind,  that  followed  the  voice  in  front, 
"  henceforth  to  grow  in  thy  likeness,  and  in  thy  strength 
to  devote  ourselves  joyfully  to  the  true  and  diligent 
service  of  the  world  wherein  thou  hast  set  us.  Grant 
us,  moreover,  we  pray,  such  faith  in  thee  and  to  thee 
that  in  every  peril  or  woe,  to-day,  to-morrow,  or  in 

171 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

years  to  come,  we  may  without  doubt  or  fear  commit 
all  we  have,  are,  and  hope  for,  temporal  or  immortal, 
alike  unto  thee.  And,  finally,  we  beg  thee  to  grant 
us  in  this  immediate  issue  a  courage  for  ourselves  and 
compassion  for  all  others  which,  come  what  may,  living 
or  dying,  will  gird  us  so  to  acquit  ourselves  that  in  the 
end  we  may  stand  before  thee  unashamed  and  by  thy 
mercy  and  thy  love  be  welcomed  into  thine  own  eter 
nal  joy." 

"Amen!"  cried  the  exhorter  and  burst  anew  into 
song: 

"  'Chidl-dredn  of  the-e  heabm-lye  kiggn, 
As  we  jour-nye  sweet-lye  siggn. 
Siggn "' 

He  ceased  and  flashed  a  glance,  first  up  to  Hugh, 
whose  hand  lay  on  his  shoulder,  and  then  over  to  the 
standing  player.  A  hush  was  on  the  reseated  company, 
and  its  united  gaze  on  Ramsey  and  the  mourner  who 
with  her  had  been  audibly  following  the  prayer.  Two 
seats  from  her  Mrs.  Gilmore  vainly  tried  to  catch  her 
eye.  The  penitent  was  in  his  seat  again.  He  bent 
low  forward,  his  face  in  his  hands,  and  face  and  hands 
hid  in  his  thick  fair  locks.  Ramsey  had  turned  to 
ward  him  with  a  knee  in  her  chair,  a  handkerchief 
pressed  fiercely  against  her  lips,  and  her  drowned  eyes 
gazing  down  on  him.  But  as  the  actor  was  about  to 
speak  she  wheeled  toward  him  and  stood  with  an  arm 
beseechingly  thrown  out,  her  voice  breaking  in  her 
throat. 

172 


XXVI 
ALARM  AND  DISTRESS 

"IT'S  Basilel"  she  cried.  Then,  one  after  another, 
to  the  exhorter,  to  Hugh,  to  each  of  the  two  Gilmores 
separately:  "This  is  wrong,  all  wrong!  You  said  we 
mustn't  alarm  or  distress  any  one — and  we  mustn't!" 
She  tried  to  face  her  chair  round  to  the  bowed  head, 
and  Hugh,  at  a  touch  from  his  grandfather,  moved  to 
her  aid.  Mrs.  Gilmore  too  had  started  but  was  kept 
back  by  others,  whispering  with  her  on  the  edges  of 
their  seats. 

"It's  all  wrong,"  insisted  Ramsey  to  Hugh  close  at 
hand,  "and  we  mustn't  do  it!  You  said  we  mustn't!" 

The  exhorter  was  gratified,  not  to  say  flattered. 
"H-it  ain't  none  of  it  wrong,  my  young  sisteh,"  he 
called  across.  "  Ef  yo'  bretheh's  distress  ah  the  fear  o' 
damnation  it's  all  right  and  Gawd's  name  be  pra-aised ! " 

"Amen!"  groaned  one  or  two  of  the  undistressed 
majority,  while  old  Joy  modestly  pressed  up  from  the 
rear. 

"Rease,  good  ladies  an'  gen'lemens,"  she  said  as  she 
came,  "will  you  please  fo'  to  lem-me  thoo,  ef  you 
please?  Dat's  my  young  mahsteh,  what  I  done  nu's' 
f'om  a  baby.  Ef  you  please'm,  will  you  please  suh, 
fo'  to  lem-me  pass,  ef  you  please?"  In  gentle  haste 

173 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

she  made  her  way,  many  eyes  following,  and  heads 
swinging  right  and  left  to  see  around  the  heads  that 
came  between.  The  goal  was  reached  just  as  Ramsey, 
in  her  turned  seat,  leaned  to  lay  fond  hands  on  her 
brother's  locks.  But  Hugh  interposed  an  arm. 

"No,"  he  said,  "we  mustn't  do  that  either." 

"No!"  said  Joy,  "dat's  right!  Fo'  de  Lawd's  sake 
tek  heh  clean  away — ef  you  kin.  An'  ef  you  please, 
good  ladies  an'  gen'lemens,  fo'  to  squeeze  back  a  leetle 
mite ?" 

They  squeezed  the  mite  and  she  knelt  by  the  boy. 
The  sister  knelt  too,  but  as  she  left  her  chair  Hugh, 
taking  it,  put  himself  between  her  and  her  brother. 
The  actor  was  the  only  one  left  standing. 

"Sing,  will  you,  please,"  he  said — "and  will  you 
all  sing 

"  'There  is  a  land  of  pure  delight—' 

Mrs.  Gilmore,  will  you  raise  the  tune?" 

But  the  exhorter  was  too  quick  for  them  and  "riz" 
it  before  the  request  was  fairly  uttered.  All  sang, 
and  over  all  easily  soared  the  voice  of  the  zealot: 

"Thah  is  a  ladnd  o'  pyo'  de-light 

Whah  saidnts  ib-maw-tudl  reigdn. 

Idn-fidn-ite  day  dis-pedls  the-e  night 

Adn  pleas-u'es  badn-ish  paidn. ' " 

Now  he  rolled  his  enraptured  eyes  and  now  his  quid, 
spat  freely  on  the  rich  carpet,  beat  time  on  one  big 
palm  with  the  other  and  on  the  floor  with  one  vast 

174 


ALARM  AND  DISTRESS 

foot,  while  through  the  song  like  a  lifeboat  through 
waves,  undisturbed  and  undisturbing,  cleft  the  steady 
speech  of  the  nurse  to  the  boy.  Regardless  of  the  pre 
caution  just  urged  for  Ramsey,  her  arm  fell  over  his 
bowed  form. 

Thah  eveh-last-ign  sprign  a-bi-dns 
Adn  nev-eh  with-'rign  flow-ehs — '  " 

— ran  the  hymn,  and  straight  through  it,  heard  every 
where,  pressed  mammy  Joy's  tearful  inquiry: 

"Is  you  got  religion,  honey  boy,  aw  is  you  on'y  got 
de  sickness?  Tell  me,  honey,  which  you  got?  Is  you 
got  bofe?" 

The  lad  moaned,  shook  his  head,  and  suddenly  sat 
up,  and  cried  to  his  kneeling  and  gazing  sister:  "Nei 
ther!  Great  God,  I'm  not  ready  for  either!" — his 
words,  like  old  Joy's,  cutting  squarely  across  the  hymn 
as  it  continued: 

"  'Death  like  a  nor-rah  streabm  di-vi-dns 
This  heab'-mly  ladnd  frobm  ow-ehs.' " 

Ramsey  stood.  "Well,  don't  be  alarmed  or  dis 
tressed!"  she  half  laughed,  half  wept,  while  the  nurse 
crooned : 

"Honey  boy,  ef  you  ain't  yit  got  de  sickness " 

"I  don't  know!"  he  cried,  so  loudly  that  only  the 
Methodists  and  Baptists  sang  on.  He  sprang  up  and 
glanced  round  to  the  judge,  the  general,  the  squire,  the 
senator,  exclaiming:  "I've  been  right  in  it! — to  get 

175 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

back  that  infernal  petition  of  yours  when  I  dropped  it ! 
I've  all  but  touched  the  dying  and  the  dead!  I've 
been  handled  all  over  by  men  who'd  been  handling 
them!  Whatever  I've  caught  from  them  I'll  know  is  a 
judgment!  For  at  last  I've  got  a  sense  of  sin!  Right 
down  under  here  behind  this  boat's  engines  I  got  it! 
I  want  you-all  people  to  pray  for  me!  I've  been  an 
awful  sinner  for  years!" 

"So  have  I!"  wept  Ramsey  aloud. 

"Praise  de  Lawd!"  said  Joy,  from  her  knees. 

Mrs.  Gilmore  drew  Ramsey  backward  and  shared  a 
chair  with  her.  The  exhorter  and  a  stout  few  hung  to 
the  hymn — 

"'  Whi-dle  Jur-dan  ro-dled  be-tweedn/" 

— and  the  terrified  boy  talked  on  through  everything, 
no  one  edging  away  from  him  as  the  wise  might  in 
these  days. 

"  I'm  not  fitt'n'  to  die,  Mr.  Gilmore,"  he  said.  "  That 
petition's  not  my  worst  sin — by  half — by  quarter. 
But  it's  opened  my  eyes.  You-all  that  got  it  up,  and 
you-all  that  signed  it,  it  would  open  yours,  one  look 
below;  and  I  want  you-all,  right  here,  now,  to  tell 
God  you  take  it  back,  before  he  lays  his  curse  on  me! 
You  can  manage  that  somehow,  Mr.  manager,  can't 
you?  Can't  somebody  pray  it?  Or — or  can't — can't 
you  vote  on  it?" 

"Yes,"  broke  in  Ramsey,  clung  to  by  the  player's 
wife  but  standing  and  glancing  from  the  player  so 

176 


ALARM  AND  DISTRESS 

directly  to  the  senator  that  all  looked  at  him,  "vote! 
vote!" 

He  gave  the  player  the  sort  of  nod  one  gives  an 
auctioneer,  and  the  singers  stopped.  "I  think  we 
can,"  said  the  actor,  "and  that  if  the  senator  votes 
yea  so  will  every  one.  All  in  favor  of  withdrawing 
the  petition  raise  the  right  hand.  It  is  unanimous." 

The  exhorter  was  up.  "Mr.  play-actoh,  'that's  all 
right.  I  neveh  signed  that  trick,  nohow.  So  fah  so 
good,  fo'  a  play-acto's  church — ef  you  kin  git  sich  a 
church  into  the  imagination  o'  yo'  mind!  But  vot'n' 
ain't  enough!"  He  pointed  to  Ramsey,  fast  in  Mrs. 
Gilmore's  arms,  and  to  her  brother,  in  old  Joy's. 
"Vot'n'  don't  take  heh — naw  him — out'n  the  gall  o' 
bittehness  naw  the  bounds  o'  iniquity.  Oh,  my  young 
silk-an'-satin  sisteh,  don't  you  want  us  to  pray  fo' 
you?" 

Ramsey's  courage  was  tried.  Many  gazers,  but 
particularly  the  judge's  sister,  seemed,  by  their  eyes, 
crouching  to  pounce  on  her  whether  she  answered  yea 
or  nay.  "I  know,"  she  said,  in  tears  again,  and  un 
consciously  wringing  her  hands,  "I  know  I  ought  to, 
but — but  I — I'm  afraid  there  isn't  time.  For  I  want — 
oh,  I — I  want  to  vote  again  I  I  want  to  vote  to  take  up 
a  collection,  and  a  big  one,  for  those  people  down-stairs 
that  mom-a's  with.  And  then  we  can  pray  for  her — 
and  for  Captain  Courteney.  Mom-a's  a  Catholic  but 
it's  in  her  Bible  the  same  as  in  any:  'Blessed  are  the 
merciful,  for  they  shall  obtain  mercy.' "  The  last  word 
was  but  a  breath  on  her  quivering  lip.  Facing  the 

177 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

actor  she  stood  and  waited.  Joy  was  getting  Basile 
away. 

"It  is  moved  by  the  last  speaker,"  said  the  player, 
"and  seconded  by" — he  glanced  inquiringly  about — 
"by  several — that  we  make  an  immediate  contribu 
tion  for  the  benefit  of  our  deck  passengers,  who  are 
in  dire  need,  and  that " 

"That  we  make  it  a  big  one!"  repeated  Ramsey. 

"All  in  favor — "  he  said.  "Unanimous.  I  will  ask 
Mr.  Courteney  and  Miss  Hayle  to  take  up  the  col 
lection." 

The  dispersal  of  the  meeting  found  the  lady  of  Mil- 
liken's  Bend  with  the  judge's  sister.  The  judge,  join 
ing  them,  reported  that  the  laughing  Ramsey's  col 
lection  was  double  that  of  the  solemn  Hugh.  The 
sister's  eyes  snapped  as  she  put  in:  "She  made  me 
double  my  contribution."  Ramsey  passed  at  a  dis 
tance.  "It's  a  shame  to  keep  short  dresses  on  a  girl 
of  that  age  and  of  her — her— 

"Spontaneity?"  asked  the  judge.  "I  like  sponta 
neity,  even  exuberance,  at  times." 

"Well,  I  don't,"  said  the  sister. 

"No,"  murmured  the  judge.  These  two,  who  were 
to  get  off  at  Natchez,  were  just  beginning  to  be  enjoyed 
—as  types.  The  sister  was  one  who  had  all  her  life 
complained  of  "enlargement  of  the  spleen"  and  even 
oftener  of  a  "bitter  mouth."  On  which  the  judge's 
only  comment  was:  "Hmm!"  Just  now,  as  to  Ram 
sey,  he  grew  daring. 

178 


ALARM  AND  DISTRESS 

"Her  dress,"  he  said,  "is  longer  than  it  was  yester 
day." 

"It's  a  mile  too  short." 

"As  much  as  that?" 

"I  wish  you  were  not  going  to  leave  us  so  soon," 
said  the  lady  of  the  Bends,  and  then  bravely  added,  of 
Ramsey:  "Her  dresses  are  short  by  her  own  choice, 
old  Joy  says." 

"Shouldn't  doubt  it  a  moment." 

"Yes,  she  keeps  them  short  to  keep  her  mother 
young.  I  think  that's  right  sweet  of  her,  don't  you?" 

"No,"  replied  the  sister,  and  went  to  lock  her  trunks. 


179 


XXVII 
PILOTS'  EYES 

ONCE  more  the  hurricane  deck.  What  space !  What 
freedom!  Again  from  the  airy,  sun-beaten  roof,  that 
felt  as  thin  underfoot  as  the  levelled  wing  of  an  eagle, 
the  eye  dropped  far  below  to  where  the  tawny  waters 
glided  to  meet  the  cleaving  prow  or  foamed  away  from 
the  smiting  wheels.  Again  the  dazzled  vision  rose 
into  the  infinite  blue  beyond  clouds  and  sun,  or  rested 
on  the  green  fringes  of  half-drowned  shores  forever 
passing  in  slow  recessional. 

Four  in  the  afternoon.  Esperance  Point  rounded 
and  left  astern  in  the  east.  Ellis  Cliffs  there  too,  whit 
ening  back  to  the  western  sun.  Saint  Catherine's  Bend 
next  ahead,  gleaming  a  mile  and  a  quarter  wide  where 
it  swung  down  from  the  north.  And  the  Votaress  her 
self!  Once  again  that  perfect  grace  in  the  faint  up- 
curve,  at  stem  and  stern,  of  the  low  white  rail  that 
rimmed  the  deck.  Again,  above  the  stained-glass  sky 
lights  of  the  cabin,  the  long  white  texas,  repeating 
the  deck's  and  cabin's  lines  in  what  Ramsey  called  a 
"higher  octave,"  its  narrow  doors  overhung  with  gay 
scrollwork,  and  above  its  own  roof,  like  a  coronet,  the 
pilot  house,  with  Watson  just  returned  to  the  wheel. 
Once  more  the  colossal,  hot-breathing  twin  chimneys, 

180 


PILOTS'  EYES 

their  slender  iron  braces  holding  them  so  uprightly  to 
gether  and  apart,  the  golden  globe — emblem  of  the 
Courteney  fleet — hanging  between  them,  and  their  far- 
stretched  iron  guys  softly  harping  to  one  another  in 
the  breeze.  All  these  again,  and  away  out  beyond 
the  front  rail,  with  a  hundred  feet  depth  of  empty  air 
between,  the  jack-staff,  high  as  a  pine  and  as  slim  for 
its  height  as  a  cane  from  the  brake,  its  halyards  whip 
ping  cheerily,  the  black  night-hawk  at  its  middle,  a 
golden  arrow  at  its  peak. 

John  Courteney,  coming  up  into  this  scene,  laid  a 
hand  on  his  solitary  chair  at  the  forward  rail  but  then 
paused.  Between  the  chair  and  the  skylights  behind 
it  stood  the  squire's  sister  and  brother-in-law  and 
Ramsey.  Yes,  they  eagerly  agreed  with  him,  the  view 
ahead  was  certainly  dazzling.  Ramsey  would  have 
asked  a  question,  but  the  husband  remembered  the  con 
tagion  from  whose  field  below  the  captain  had  just 
come,  the  wife  noticed  that  the  presence  of  ladies  would 
keep  the  captain  standing,  and  the  three,  remarking 
that  such  a  scene  was  too  brilliant  to  confront,  moved 
aft.  As  they  went,  Watson,  up  at  the  wheel,  and 
Ned,  his  partner,  lingering  by  him,  had  a  half-length 
view  of  them,  their  lower  half  being  hid  by  the  cabin 
roof,  close  under  whose  edge  their  feet  passed,  where 
its  shadow  kept  the  deck  cool.  The  wife  still  had  her 
embroidery,  the  husband  his  De  Bow.  By  certain 
changes  about  Ramsey's  throat  and  shoulders  Ned  no 
ticed  that  she  was  in  yet  another  dress,  whose  skirt — 
such  part  as  showed  above  the  cabin  roof — was  in 

181 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

flounces  almost  to  the  waist.  He  would  tell  that  at 
home  to  his  wife  and  daughter,  who  now  and  then  de 
pended  on  him  for  fashions,  with  striking  results.  Wat 
son,  too,  noticed  Ramsey,  yet  his  chief  attention  re 
mained,  as  steadily  as  his  gaze,  on  his  steering-mark 
far  up  in  the  bight  of  the  sunlit  bend,  at  the  same  time 
including,  here  below,  his  seated  commander. 

"Cap'  ought  to  be  pootty  tol'able  tired,  Ned." 

"Well,  now,  he  jest  ought!"  The  partner  dropped 
back  and  perched  on  the  visitor's  bench,  whence  he 
could  still  see  the  river  though  not  the  closely  inter 
vening  cabin — and  texas  roofs;  and  all  the  two  said 
later  was  without  an  exchange  of  glances.  Watson 
thought  the  captain  would  "  rest  more  now,  on  watch, 
than  what  he  did  before,  off,"  having  got  matters  run 
ning  so  much  smoother  down  below;  though  the  cholera 
was  "a-growin',  straight  along." 

Ned  told  of  his  pleasure  in  seeing  Hugh  conduct  the 
senator  down  to  the  devotional  services:  "Lard,  they 
hev  done  him  brown,  ain't  they? — atween  'em,  Hugh 
and  Hayle's  girl?" 

"With  some  help,"  said  Watson,  modestly.  "That 
petition — ef  th's  anything  else  aboard  this  boat  as 
dead  as  what  it  is" — he  ran  into  inelegancies. 

Ned  offered  to  bet  it  was  not  dead  inside  the  senator, 
and  Watson  admitted  that  the  statesman  would  prob 
ably  never  forgive  the  "genteel"  way  he  had  been 
euchred;  though  like  euchre,  he  said,  a  lot  of  it  was 
luck. 

"But,  man!  the  bluff  he  kin  put  up!     Couldn't  be- 

182 


PILOTS'  EYES 

lieve  my  eyes  when  we'd  passed  the  hat  an'  adjourned 
an'  I  see  him  a-standin'  at  the  fork  o'  the  for'a'd  stairs, 
ag'in  the  trunk  room,  same  ole  bell-wether  as  ever, 
a-makin'  a  bully  speech  to  Madame  Hayle  an'  that 
Marburg  chap  down  in  the  gangway,  foot  o'  the  steps, 
an'  a-present'n'  him  our  l  oblations ' — says  he — meanin' 
the  swag!" 

"An'  her  a-translat'n'  for  him!"  said  Ned,  fancying 
the  scene,  with  the  senator,  under  his  mask,  "  a-gritt'n' 
his  tushes!"  and  Watson,  to  heighten  it,  told  of  Hugh 
and  the  actor  at  one  head  of  the  double  stair,  and  Mrs. 
Gilmore  and  Ramsey  at  the  other — "a-chirpin'  him 
on,  an'  the  whole  b'iler  deck,  ladies  and  gents,  takin' 
it  in,  solid!" 

The  senator  was  long-headed.  "Yes,  an'  yit  Hugh's 
throwed  him  fair  jest  by  main  strength  an'  awk'ard- 
ness." 

"I  dunno!"  said  Ned.  "It  wuz  long-headed,  too, 
fo'  Hugh  an'  the  play-acto's  to  give  him  the  job." 

"It  wuz  long-headed  in  her  who  put  'em  up  to  it." 

"Oh,  look  here!    She  didn't  do  that,  did  she?" 

"'Less'n  I'm  a  liar,"  replied  Watson,  eyes  front. 

"Hunh!  Wonder  which!  Say,  Wats';  on  the  b'i 
ler  deck — did  she  have  on  this  gownd  she's  a-wearin' 
now?"  . 

"No,"  said  Watson,  tardily,  with  eyes  still  up-stream. 

"Not  wast'n'  yo'  words,"  said  the  inquirer. 

"No." 

"A  short  answer  turneth  away  wrath,  I  s'pose." 

"It  turneth  away  discussion  o'  ladies'  gownds." 

183 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Lard!  I  don't  discuss  'em  to  excess.  Noticed 
hern — its  upper  works — an'  a  flounce  or  two — an'  sort 
o'  wondered  as  to  the  rest  of  it,  how  much  water  it's 
a-drawin'.  Anything  li-bell-ious  about  that?" 

"No,  considerin'  the  source." 

Ned  slipped  from  the  bench  to  go,  but  Watson 
looked  back  with  a  light  beckon  of  the  head  and  he 
turned  to  the  wheel.  Thence  he  glanced  down  over 
the  breast-board,  over  the  forward  eaves  of  the  texas, 
down  to  the  skylight  roof  and  upon  several  persons. 
First,  the  boat's  commander.  He  was  leaving  his  seat 
at  the  approach,  from  the  head  of  a  boiler-deck  stair,  of 
Madame  Hayle  and  the  doctor.  On  the  skylight  roof, 
near  the  bell,  were  the  two  players,  just  greeting  Hugh 
as  from  the  other  side  he  reached  the  deck  and  stepped 
up  to  their  level.  On  the  same  roof,  midway  between 
these  and  the  front  of  the  texas,  were  the  squire's  sister 
and  her  husband  returning  from  their  search  for  shade. 
And  lastly,  close  after  them,  came  Ramsey,  a  source  of 
general  astonishment.  For  the  gown  she  was  in  and 
whose  lower  possibilities  had  aroused  Ned's  avowed 
and  Watson's  concealed  interest  was  her  mother's  and 
swept  the  deck. 

Madame  Hayle  grew  more  beautiful  as  with  a  play 
of  indignation  which  wholly  failed  to  disguise  her  pleas 
ure  she  cried:  "By  what  per-mission?  by  what  per 
mission  have  you  pud — my — clothes?" 

The  girl  would  have  flown  to  her  arms  but  the  doc 
tor  forbade,  and  for  second  choice  she  set  up  a  dainty 
tripping  to  and  fro  athwartships;  dipping,  rising,  skip- 

184 


PILOTS'   EYES 

ping,  swaying,  bridling,  like  a  mocking-bird  on  a  gar 
den  wall.  It  made  Ned  and  Watson  themselves  worth 
seeing.  Professional  dignity  set  their  faces  like  gran 
ite  though  every  vein  seethed  with  a  riot  of  laughter. 
But  the  laughter's  chief  cause  was  not  Ramsey. 

"Look  at  Hugh,"  muttered  Watson,  gently  drawing 
down  the  wheel  for  the  Votaress  to  sweep  round  into  a 
northward  reach  at  whose  head  Natchez  Island  would 
presently  show  itself.  To  look  at  Hugh  took  nerve, 
but  in  a  moment 

"Look  at  her,"  said  Ned.  .  .  .  "There!  she  tipped 
her  nose  at  him!" 

"She  didn't!" 

"She  did.  Wats',  yo'  game  ain't  never  goin'  to 
work." 

"Ned,  y'ain't  got  the  sense  of  a  loon." 

"Well,  I  swear  I've  got  more'n  Hugh — or  her." 


185 


XXVIII 
WORDS  AND  THE  "  WESTWOOD  " 

DOWN  on  the  roof,  while  Ramsey's  mother  started 
with  the  physician  around  the  skylights  for  the  texas, 
and  Hugh  and  Gilmore  conversed  with  the  captain, 
Mrs.  Gilmore,  her  hands  on  Ramsey,  said  to  madame : 

"I  want  her  now,  to  begin  to  make  ready  for  to 
morrow  evening.  My  dear" — to  the  girl — "I've  a 
dozen  dresses  that  will  become  you  better  than  this 
one." 

"Long?"  cried  Ramsey.  "I'll  take  the  lot!"  She 
felt  Hugh  distantly  looking  and  listening. 

"We  won't  trade  on  Sunday,"  laughed  Mrs.  Gilmore; 
"but  you  mustn't" — scanning  her  approvingly — "ever 
put  on  a  short  dress  again." 

"Ho-oh,  I  never  will!"  said  Ramsey,  with  a  toss 
meant  for  Hugh,  who  went  by,  hurrying  aft  to  meet 
a  newcomer.  She  started  after  him.  Madame  Hayle, 
in  that  direction,  had  gone  into  the  sick-room,  whence 
Ramsey's  brother  Julian,  with  barely  a  word  to  his 
mother,  had  come  out.  Stepping  down  into  the  narrow 
walk  between  the  roofs  of  cabin  and  pantry  and  glancing 
over  his  shoulder  upon  the  company  about  the  bell,  he 
winced  at  sight  of  his  sister's  attire.  Yet  he  kept  his 
course  and  was  well  started  aft  before  he  saw  that  he 

186 


WORDS  AND  THE  "WESTWOOD" 

was  being  met  by  some  one  in  the  narrow  way,  and  by 
whom  but  Marburg.  It  was  that  alien  whom  Hugh 
was  hastening  to  reach  and  on  whom  Ramsey  was  star 
ing.  He  had  come  up 'from  the  engine  room  through 
the  steward's  department,  by  the  unguarded  route 
which  Basile's  ascent  had  revealed,  and  now  came  face 
to  face  with  a  foe  where  there  was  room  only  for  friends 
to  meet  and  pass.  So  said  the  eyes  of  each  to  each, 
but  just  then  a  quick  footfall  on  the  cabin  roof,  behind 
and  somewhat  above  him,  caused  Julian  to  face  round 
and  he  confronted  Hugh. 

"Mr.  Hayle,"  was  Hugh's  word,  "what  will  you 
have,  sir?" 

"Nothing,  sir,  of  you!  What  will  you  have  of  me, 
sir?" 

Ramsey  glided  by  both  and  halted  before  the  exile, 
whose  scowl  vanished  in  a  look  so  grateful  and  suppli 
cating  that  her  words,  clearly  meant  to  justify  his 
presence,  caught  in  her  throat :  "  What  will  you — have, 
sir?  My  mother? — back  again? — and  the  doctor?" 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  and  then  added  in  German  with 
an  anguish  of  gesture  which  was  ample  interpretation, 
"  yes,  for  my  mother !  for  my  little  brother !  Ah,  God ! 
he  is  not  dead !  He  is  yet  alive !  His  arms  are  as  sup 
ple  as  these.  There  is  color  still  in  his  cheeks!" 

She  stood  dumb  with  horror.  Yet  she  woke  to  ac 
tion  as,  close  beside  her,  she  heard  her  brother  snarl 
at  Hugh: 

"I'll  go  where  I  please!  Who  stops  me,  God  pity 
him!" 

187 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

She  dropped  nimbly  from  the  skylights'  overhang 
to  the  alien's  level  and  with  looks  as  beseeching  as  his 
waved  him  back  a  step.  Then  with  the  same  mute 
entreaty  she  faced  Julian  and  Hugh.  But  there  was 
a  ludicrous  contrast,  visible  to  all,  between  Hugh's 
phlegm  and  her  brother's  pomp,  and  by  a  flash  of  fem 
inine  instinct  she  divined  the  best  mood  with  which  to 
match  it.  Grimly  elated,  Hugh  saw  what  was  com 
ing.  Julian  saw,  and  groaned  a  wearied  wrath.  The 
captain,  the  commodore — for  the  commodore  had  re 
turned — the  Gilmores,  the  Yazoo  couple,  the  pilots 
overhead,  all  waited  with  lively  and  knowing  gaze. 
She  went  limp,  hid  her  face,  swrayed,  sank  to  one  knee, 
and  filled  the  whole  width  of  the  narrow  passage  with 
arms  and  draperies,  the  meanwhile  breaking  into  a 
laugh  so  wholly  soliloqual  that  the  two  players  became 
learners.  But  again  she  sprang  erect  and  had  hardly 
thrown  her  curls  back  from  her  blushing  face  when  her 
mother,  the  bishop,  and  the  doctor  stepped  from  the 
sick-room,  and  madame  addressed  the  immigrant: 

"Ah,  ritturn,  if  you  pie-ease.     Me,  I  am  ritturning!" 

"Yes,"  chimed  the  bishop  and  the  doctor;  "yes,  at 
once!"  and  the  exile,  with  pleading  looks  to  Ramsey, 
to  the  others  by  turn  and  to  her  again,  went  below. 
Madame  and  the  physician  began  to  follow. 

"How's  Lucian?"  called  Ramsey  after  them. 

"Getting  well,"  replied  both.  They  passed  behind 
the  wheel-house  and  only  the  pilots  knew  that  at  its 
corner  Madame  Hayle  stopped  where  she  could  still 
see  and  hear.  All  others  kept  their  eyes  on  Julian, 

188 


WORDS  AND  THE  "WESTWOOD" 

who  was  in  a  redder  heat  than  ever,  and  on  Hugh,  who 
was  addressing  him  in  a  depth  of  tone  that  amused 
the  Gilmores  almost  as  keenly  as  it  did  Ramsey,  who 
had  rejoined  them  at  his  back.  Suddenly  he  faced 
around. 

"If  Miss  Hayle,"  he  said,  "would  as  soon  go  be 
low " 

Miss  Hayle  sang  her  reply,  bugled  it:  "She  would 
no-ot." 

Hugh  stepped  down  into  her  brother's  path  and 
faced  him  again:  "You  have  written  your  father  a 
letter " 

Julian's  head  flew  up  but  bent  in  slow  avowal. 

"To  be  put  aboard  the  Antelope,"  pursued  Hugh 

The  head  went  higher:  "Well,  sir?" 

"To  outrun  this  boat." 

"And— if— I— have,  sir?" 

"Why,  yes,"  murmured  the  squire's  brother-in-law 
and  sister,  to  the  Gilmores,  "suppose  he  has?" 

"So  have  I,"  said  Hugh  to  Julian.  He  glanced  up 
to  the  Yazoo  couple  and  then  to  the  bishop  self-isolated 
near  the  sick-room  door.  Ramsey  and  the  couple 
laughed.  Hugh  turned  her  way  again:  "If  Miss 
Hayle- 

"She  wouldn't,"  said  Ramsey,  laughing  more. 

"Well,  sir!"  drawled  the  waiting  Julian,  to  Hugh. 

Hugh  waved  a  hand  toward  the  bishop:  "That  gen 
tleman  has  risked  his  life  for  your  sick  brother." 

"Yes,"  said  Ramsey.  The  bishop  scowled  up  the 
river.  Julian  scowled  at  Hugh. 

189 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Well,  sir?"  he  once  more  challenged. 

"He  was  told  he  was  wanted  as  a  minister,"  said 
Hugh. 

"Well,  sir?" 

"He  was  wanted  merely  to  get  your  letter  off  se 
cretly." 

"You  lie!" 

"Oh!"  sighed  the  Yazoo  pair.  Ramsey  shrank 
upon  Mrs.  Gilmore. 

"Not  at  all,"  said  a  quiet  voice  overhead  and  the 
eyes  of  Julian,  blazing  upward,  met  Watson's  blazing 
down. 

"Come,"  said  the  player's  wife  to  Ramsey,  "come 
away." 

"I  won't,"  tearfully  laughed  Ramsey,  and  Mrs.  Gil- 
more  and  the  squire's  sister  had  to  laugh  with  her. 

"The  lie,"  said  Hugh,  "will  keep.  Your  letter  is 
such  that  the  bishop  declines  to  touch  it." 

The  bishop  swelled.  Julian  recoiled  and,  glancing 
behind  him,  confronted  his  mother. 

"My  son,"  she  began,  but  he  whirled  back  to  Hugh. 

"You  keyhole  spy!"  he  wailed;  "you  eavesdropping 
viper!" 

Ramsey  came  tiptoeing  along  the  edge  of  the  pantry 
roof  to  light  down  between  them  but  he  imperiously 
motioned  her  off,  still  glaring  at  Hugh  and  gnawing  his 
lip  with  chagrin.  "Oh,  never  mind!"  was  all  he  could 
choke  out;  "never  you  mind!"  He  ceased  again,  to 
catch  what  Hugh  was  replying  to  him.  Said  Hugh: 

"  I'll  take  your  letter  and  send  it  with  my  own." 
190 


WORDS  AND  THE  "WESTWOOD" 

"No,  sir!    No,  you  grovelling  sneak!" 

"Mais,  yass!"  called  Madame  Hayle  from  her  place, 
and  Ramsey  laughed  from  hers,  but  a  new  voice  ar 
rested  every  one's  attention.  The  bishop  wheeled 
round  to  it  with  an  exclamation  of  dismay  that  was 
echoed  even  by  Julian.  In  the  sick-room  door  stood 
Lucian,  half  dressed  and  feebly  clinging  to  the  jamb. 

"Let  him  do  it,  Jule!"  he  cried  in  a  tremulous  thin 
voice.  "Take  the  whelp  at  his  word!  Don't  you  see? 
Don't  you  see,  Jule?  We'll  have  him  in  a  nine  hole. 
It'll  be  hell  for  him  if  he  puts  it  through  and  worse  if 
he  slinks  it!"  He  tried  to  put  off  the  bishop's  sustain 
ing  arm. 

A  light  of  discernment  filled  Julian's  face.  There 
was  no  time  to  ponder.  He  had  always  trusted  Lucian 
for  the  cunninger  insight  and  did  it  now  though  Lucian 
lay  in  the  bishop's  arms  limp  and  senseless.  He  drew 
forth  the  letter.  Gayly  stooping  over  the  skylights 
Ramsey  reached  for  it  and  passed  it  to  Hugh.  Julian 
sprang  up  to  the  bishop,  who  had  borne  Lucian  into 
the  sick-room  and  now  filled  its  door  again,  waving 
a  cheerful  reassurance. 

"A  mere  swoon,"  said  the  bishop;  "all  right 
again." 

"  It  may  be  all  right  up  there,"  the  squire's  sister  be 
gan  to  say  to  the  actor's  wife — and  hushed.  But  Ram 
sey  had  heard,  as  she  watched  her  mother  hurry  below 
to  the  young  Marburg  brother  lying  as  limp  and  faintly 
pink  in  death  as  her  brother  up  here  in  life;  heard,  and 
thought  of  the  perils  in  store  for  Hugh  and  his  kin  and 

191 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

her  and  hers  unless  this  sweet,  wise  mother  could  charm 
them  away  as  sunlight  charms  away  pestilence.  Mr. 
Gilmore  called  her: 

"Come,  we've  lots  to  do." 

But  how  could  one  come  just  then?  A  slight  turn 
of  the  boat's  head  was  putting  Natchez  Island  close 
on  her  larboard  bow  and,  seven  miles  away,  bringing 
hazily  into  sight  Natchez  herself,  both  on  her  bluffs 
and  "under-the-hill."  Nay,  more;  abreast  the  Vota 
ress  was  another  fine  boat.  The  Westivood,  she  was 
named.  Her  going  was  beautiful,  yet  the  Votaress  was 
gradually  passing  her.  The  Yazoo  pair  knew  her  well. 
When  they  made  salute  toward  two  men  who  stood 
near  her  forward  skylights,  one  of  them  returned  it. 

"Why  should  he  be  so  solemn?"  asked  the  wife. 

"Why  shouldn't  he?"  laughed  Ramsey. 

"Because  he's  a  mere  passenger,  on  his  wedding 
tour." 

"Humph!"  said  Ramsey.  "Weddings  are  solemn 
things.  Is  that  other  man  the  captain?"  she  asked 
the  husband. 

"No,  I  regret  to  say,  he's  only  her  first  clerk." 

"Why  should  you  regret  to  say  it?"  inquired  the 
girl;  but  the  wife,  too,  had  a  question: 

"  Do  you  think  there's  anything  wrong?  " 

"N-no,  oh,  no." 

The  Westwood's  clerk  made  a  sign  to  Captain  Cour- 
teney.  The  captain  glanced  up  to  Watson,  and  the 
two  boats,  still  at  full  speed,  began  to  draw  sidewise 
together.  But  Ramsey's  liveliest  interest  was  in  the 

192 


WORDS  AND  THE  "•  WESTWOOD" 

Westwood's  crew,  who,  far  below  about  her  capstan, 
were  paying  their  compliments  to  the  newer,  larger, 
speedier  boat  in  song  and  refrain  with  stately  wavings 
and  dippings  of  ragged  hats  and  naked  black  arms. 
Now  the  boats'  guards  almost  touched  and  their  com 
manders  spoke  so  quietly  together  that  she  did  not 
hear  their  words.  But  she  noted  the  regretful  air 
with  which  John  Courteney  shook  his  head  to  the 
Westwood's  clerk  and  then  to  the  passenger,  and  the 
Westwood  began  again  to  drop  behind.  Hugh  came 
near,  paused,  and  glanced  around. 

"Looking  for  the  commodore?"  she  asked. 

"I  thought  you  went  down  with  Mrs.  Gilmore,"  he 
replied,  "to  rehearse  your  part  in  the  play." 

"Commodore's  down  on  the  lower  deck,"  she  said; 
"freight  deck — with  mom-a — and  the  bishop." 

Hugh  showed  astonishment.     "The  bishop?" 

"Yes,  mom-a  made  him  go."  She  laughed.  "Some 
of  the  sick  folks  down  there  are  Protestants  and  were 
threatening  to  turn  Catholic.  Is  anybody  sick  aboard 
the  Westwood?" 

"No." 

"Then  where's  her  captain?" 

Hugh  made  no  reply  but  to  meet  her  steady  gaze 
with  his  own  till  she  asked  in  a  subdued  voice:  "Chol 
era?" 

Hugh  nodded.  Each  knew  the  other  was  aware  of 
the  song  that  floated  up  after  them  from  the  boat  be 
hind. 

"What  did  the  bridegroom  want?"  asked  the  girl. 
193 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Wanted  to  give  us  a  thousand  dollars  to  take  his 
bride — with  him  or  without  him — aboard  the  Votaress." 

"But  when  he  heard  how  much  worse  off  we  are — " 
prompted  she. 

"Yes." 

"But,  Mr.  Hugh " 

"Yes?" 

"Anyhow,  this  boat  hasn't  got  that  boat's  trouble!" 

"No,"  said  Hugh,  and  knew  they  were  both  think 
ing  of  his  father.  Together  they  stood  hearkening  to 
the  last  of  the  Westwood's  song: 

" '  Ef  you  git  dah  befo'  I  do— 

0,  high-low ! — 

Jest  tell  'em  I'm  a-comin'  too — 
John's  gone  to  high-low !'" 


194 


XXIX 

STUDYING  THE  RIVER— TOGETHER 

THEY  did  not  tie  to  the  wharf-boat  at  Natchez.  At 
that  stage  of  water  there  was  good  landing  a  few  yards 
below,  where  the  sandy  bank  was  not  too  wet  to  walk 
across  to  a  higher  one  which  floods  never  reached,  close 
under  the  bluff.  Here  had  left  the  boat  half  a  dozen 
passengers  including  the  judge  and  his  sister.  So 
good-by  to  that  lady.  Never  would  she  have  set  foot 
on  the  Votaress  had  she  dreamed  she  was  to  be  "  dumped 
off"  on  such  a  spot.  She  believed  that  girl  of  Gideon 
Hayle's  had  laughed  as  she  went  up  the  perilous  stage 
plank.  And  really  there  is  no  proof  to  the  contrary. 

Another  incident  awoke  in  Ramsey  no  mirth.  Yet 
she  never  forgot  it.  It  occurred  on  the  upper,  greener 
level  that  overlooked,  across  the  river,  a  great  sweep  of 
Louisiana  lowlands  at  that  moment  bathed  in  a  golden 
sunset.  The  same  light  fell  upon  the  incident  itself — 
the  Marburg  lad's  burial;  fell  upon  the  bent  mother 
standing  behind  the  priest  and  between  her  elder  son 
and  Madame  Hayle,  surrounded  by  her  fellow  exiles, 
many  of  whom,  with  faces  hidden  like  hers,  wept  more 
for  her  bereavement  than  they  had  earlier  done  for 
their  own.  So  the  rude  pine  coffin  descended  into  the 

195 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

unhallowed  ground.  From  the  hurricane-deck  Ramsey 
looked  down  with  wet  eyes  to  the  meek  mourner  re 
turning  aboard  on  the  arm  of  her  Otto.  Thinking  how 
easily  in  the  play  of  chance  the  lost  brother  might  have 
been  saved  and  her  saved  brother  lost,  and  recalling 
the  plight  of  the  Westwood,  she  suddenly  realized  that 
no  one  could  tell  who  might  go  next — "to  high-low." 
Otto  Marburg,  glancing  up,  saw  her  tears,  and  would 
have  paused  but  for  the  sacred  burden  on  his  arm. 

At  the  same  time,  for  eyes,  even  wet  eyes,  as  lively 
as  Ramsey's  there  were  livelier  things  to  see.  Hugh 
had  gone  ashore  and  up  to  the  wharf-boat,  crossed  it, 
and  boarded  the  busy  Antelope  with  several  letters  in 
hand,  the  twins'  letter  among  them.  Said  the  squire's 
brother-in-law : 

"  That  boy  must  know  the  danger  to  him  there  is  in 
that  document,"  and  the  planter  of  Milliken's  Bend 
agreed. 

So  did  their  wives.  There  was  "everything  in  it  he 
wouldn't  want  there  and  nothing  he  would  want." 

He  was  doing  the  "brave  thing,"  they  all  said,  and 
the  wives  called  it  too  brave.  The  brave  thing,  they 
thought,  "ran  a  slim  chance  against  Hayle's  twins." 

"My  dear  ladies,"  said  the  planter,  "it  runs  the 
only  chance  he  has.  The  brave  thing  is  the  only  thing 
those  two  young  fire-eaters  have  any  respect  for." 
He  stopped  short;  Ramsey  had  overheard.  Yet  she 
kept  a  pretty  front. 

"Why  do  you  call  him  'that  boy'  ?"  she  laughingly 
asked. 

196 


STUDYING  THE  RIVER— TOGETHER 

"Well,  really,  because,"  replied  the  planter,  twin 
kling,  "he's  so  much  more  than  a  boy.  Don't  you 
think  so?" 

She  gave  him  a  sidelong  glance,  twitched  her  curls, 
and  looked  down  ashore.  Her  mother  was  there  with 
the  "boy's"  grandfather.  They  were  getting  into  a 
rickety  hack.  Now  Hugh  joined  them  from  the  Ante- 
lope,  and  they  went  whipping  up  the  steep  road  across 
the  face  of  the  bluff  and  into  the  "stuck-up"  Natchez 
atop  the  hill.  She  guessed  their  errand. 

Meantime  the  Westwood  had  reached  the  wharf -boat, 
put  her  bridal  pair  aboard  the  Antelope,  and  backed  out 
again  so  promptly  that  as  the  Antelope  cast  off  and 
started  after  her  she  had  rounded  Marengo  Bend  and 
was  showing  only  her  smoke  across  Cowpen  Point. 
And  now  reappeared  Madame  Hayle,  the  commodore, 
and  Hugh,  bringing  with  them — welcome  sight — two 
sisters  of  charity.  The  moment  they  touched  the  lower 
deck  the  Votaress,  with  John  Courteney  on  her  roof, 
backed  away,  and  soon,  in  the  first  bend  above,  any  eye 
could  plainly  see  the  Westwood,  still  less  than  four  miles 
off  across  country  though  eight  by  the  river,  with  the 
Antelope  four  miles  behind  her  and  four  ahead  of  the 
Votaress.  Said  the  pilot,  Ned,  to  Ramsey,  pulling  the 
wheel  down  to  head  into  the  crimson  west: 

"Four  V  four's  eight,  ain't  it?  Used  to  be.  Can't 
tell  what'll  change  on  this  river.  When  Lake  Concor- 
dia,  over  here  in  Louisiana,  was  part  o'  the  river,  an' 
Vidal's  Island,  in  its  middle,  was  in  the  river,  this  bend 
wa'n't  jest  eight  mile'  round,  it  wuz  twenty.  These  are 

197 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

the  bends.  F'om  here  to  Cairo  we  got  to  run  one  etar- 
nal  wriggle  o'  six  hund'd  V  eighty  mile'  to  make  three 
hund'd  V  seventy." 

"Oh,  I'm  glad  of  it!  At  least— ain't— ain't  you?" 
He  shook  his  head:  "Not  this  run."  The  supper 
bell  rang  and  Ramsey  fled,  but  he  repeated :  "  No,  not 
this  run!"  He  turned  and  looked  back  upon  Natchez 
bluff  far  behind  the  steamer's  wake.  "  I  wished  every 
last  Hayle  on  this  blessed  boat  wuz  off  o'  her  an'  'top 
o'  you!" 

On  that  bluff,  in  colonial  days,  had  stood  Fort 
Rosalie,  whose  dire  tragedy  Ramsey,  down  in  the  cabin, 
found  Gilmore,  at  table,  recounting  to  Hugh  and 
others:  murder  of  its  French  settlers  by  Natchez  In 
dians  and  the  extermination  of  the  Natchez  tribe  by 
the  French  from  New  Orleans.  He  was  brief,  and  for 
a  good  ending  went  on  to  recall  his  own  first  sight  of 
the  spot,  before  the  time  of  steamboats,  when  Natchez 
was  a  village;  how,  as  his  low  broadhorn  came  drifting 
down  around  this  point  close  above  it,  the  bold  rise 
swung  into  view,  crowned  with  pines,  its  lower  parts 
evergreen  with  the  bay  magnolia,  and  its  precipitous 
front  lighted  up,  as  now,  with  the  last  beams  of  day.  He 
made  it  seem  so  fair  and  important  that  Ramsey's  na 
tive  pride  and  a  shame  of  her  previous  blindness  almost 
drove  her  from  the  board  to  take  a  last  look  at  it  from 
the  stern  guards;  but  she  was  again  in  her  mother's 
seat  and  again  very  hungry.  He  was  good  company 
to  every  one,  the  actor;  always  acting,  yet  always  as 
natural  as  if  acting  and  nature  were  one;  a  quiet  edu- 

198 


STUDYING  THE  RIVER— TOGETHER 

cation  to  Hugh,  an  unfailing  joy  to  his  wife,  and  both 
to  Ramsey. 

After  supper  the  players  got  out  an  old  two-act 
play  for  the  next  evening's  entertainment.  They  cast 
Hugh  and  Ramsey  for  two  small  roles,  and  for  two 
larger  ones  found  a  young  brother  and  sister — of  Napo 
leon — at  the  mouth  of  the  Arkansas — who  would  have 
just  time  to  act  them  before  leaving  the  boat.  Supper 
had  prevented  its  guests  from  seeing  the  Votaress  turn 
Giles's  Bend  and  Rifle  Point  and  meet  another  boat  as 
glittering  as  she  and  pass  Lake  Saint  John  and  Fair- 
child's  Bend — where  the  river  widened  to  three  miles 
about  Fairchild's  double  island.  Wherefore  the  indul 
gent  Gilmores,  on  Ramsey's  pleading,  elected  to  coach 
first  the  brother  and  sister — of  Napoleon — letting  Hugh 
ascend  to  the  starlight  of  the  roof  and  Ramsey  follow 
attended  once  more  by  old  Joy. 

She  met  Hugh  at  the  foot  of  the  pilot-house  steps. 
"We  are  postponed!"  she  said,  "you  and  me — I!" 

"Yes.     Do  you  know  for  what?" 

"Yes,  because  those  other  two  parts  are  so  much 
bigger  than  ours,  and  because — I  d'n'  know — I  believe 
they  think  I'm  sleepy — ha,  ha!  I'm  glad,  for  I  want 
to  study  this  river,  all  I  can,  day  and  night.  And 
you — must,  mustn't  you?" 

"Yes,"  he  said,  which  was  all  he  was  to  say  in  the 
play. 

Half-way  up  the  steps  she  halted:  "You're  to  be  a 
captain  on  it  yourself  as  soon  as  you're  fit,  ain't  you?  " 

"If  that  time  ever  comes." 
199 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Phew!  how  modest!"  She  stared  an  instant, 
turned  her  back,  clasped  the  rail,  and  with  her  fore 
head  on  her  arms  laughed  till  Hugh  was  weary — not 
necessarily  long. 

He  spoke:  "Here  come  the  Westwood  and  the  Ante 
lope." 

"Where?"  She  glanced  round,  sprang  up  the  steps, 
and  soon  was  making  room  for  him  beside  her  at  a  lar 
board  window  behind  Watson.  Looking  thence  across 
the  long,  slim  neck  of  Cole's  Point  they  saw  the  two 
boats  coming  back  westward  in  the  upper  reach  of 
the  fourteen-mile  eastern  loop  they  were  running  to 
make  two  miles  into  the  north.  Now  the  Westwood 
passed  and  now  the  Antelope,  their  skylights  glinting 
like  fireflies  through  the  intervening  tree  tops,  and 
Watson  showed  how  to  tell  them  apart  by  night. 
Presently  they  turned  north  again  and  vanished,  leav 
ing  the  mighty  stream  to  its  three  students. 

"It'll  cut  off  this  whole  fourteen  mile'  some  day," 
said  Watson;  but  the  other  two,  in  their  dim  nook,  re 
mained  silent.  He  knew  that  sort  of  silence.  When 
Ramsey  by  and  by  spoke,  her  words  were  to  Hugh 
exclusively  and  in  undertone. 

"The  Quakeress—     Oh,  I  didn't  mean !" 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Hugh.  "The  Quaker 
ess ?" 

"Oh,  I  meant  the  Antelope!  She'll  soon  be  in  the 
lead  again?" 

"Yes." 

"With  both  those  letters." 

200 


STUDYING  THE  RIVER— TOGETHER 

"Both." 

"Ain't  you  glad  I  didn't  mean  the  Quakeress?" 

"No." 

"Well,  you're  glad  I  didn't  mean  Phyllis,  ain't  you?" 

"No." 

"Would  you  really  be  willing  to  tell  me  about 
Phyllis?" 

"I  would." 

"You  wasn't  willing — before — was  you? — were 
you?" 

"No." 

"What's  changed  your  mind?" 

"Lawd,  missy!"  sighed  the  forgotten  Joy. 

But  Ramsey  insisted:  "What's  changed  it?" 

"You,  chiefly." 

"I  haven't,"  very  quietly  said  the  girl. 

"You  have." 

Ramsey  glanced  cautiously  at  Watson,  but  the  pilot's 
eyes  were  a  league  ahead.  Hers  returned  to  Hugh. 
"Wasn't  it  my  brothers  changed  your  mind — the 
twins?" 

"They  helped." 

She  looked  him  over  absently:  "I  love  my  brothers." 

"I  don't,"  said  Hugh. 

She  stared  again  and  slowly  remarked:  "You 
haven't  got  to  ...  You're  powerful  queer,  ain't  you?" 

"Not  by  choice." 

"I'm  queer.  Wish  I  wasn't — wa'n't — weren't — but 
I  am." 

"Yes,"  said  Hugh,  "you  are." 
201 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

She  tilted  her  chin,  stepped  to  Watson's  side,  and 
called  down  over  the  breast-board  to  the  Gilmores,  who 
had  finished  with  their  two  pupils  for  a  time  and  had 
taken  chairs  with  a  newly  found  young  married  pair 
on  the  texas  roof: 

"Oho,  down  there!'5 

"Oho!"  the  group  answered. 

"Do  you  want  us  to  stay  up  here?"  asked  Ramsey. 
' '  Cause  if  you  do  we'll  come  right  down.  Or  if  you'd 
rather  we'd  come  down  we'll  stay  up  here!"  It  was  a 
new  note. 

The  players  laughed.  "  It's  the  long  dress  says  that," 
they  observed  to  the  other  pair. 

"It  certain'y  is,"  replied  they;  which  is  Southern 
form  for  "  probably." 


202 


XXX 
PHYLLIS  AGAIN 

ABOUT  eleven  o'clock  that  same  Sunday  evening  the 
Votaress,  at  full  speed,  was  in  a  part  of  the  river  whose 
remarkable  character  sustained  the  son  of  John  Cour- 
teney  and  the  daughter  of  Gideoa  Hayle  in  the  theory 
that  their  interest  in  it  was  all  that  had  brought  them 
to — all  that  detained  them  in — the  unlighted  pilot 
house,  on  the  visitors'  bench,  beside  Watson.  Below, 
the  passengers  were  for  the  most  part  once  more  in 
slumber.  The  exhorter  had  loudly  sung  himself  to 
sleep : 

"'Mahch-ign  thoo  Im-madn-uedl's  groudnd 
Toe  fahr-eh  wordlds  odn  high/" 

Madame  Hayle  was  in  her  stateroom  and  berth, 
deep  in  sleep  under  the  weight  of  her  toils  and  assured 
by  the  players  that  Ramsey  should  go  to  bed  when  they 
did.  Basile,  too,  slept,  but  talked  and  tossed  in  his 
sleep,  while  old  Joy,  sent  to  him  by  Ramsey  and  the 
Gilmores,  crouched  outside  his  door  and  dozed  with  an 
ear  against  it.  The  Yazoo  squire,  his  children,  his  sis 
ter,  her  husband,  the  Vicksburgers,  and  they  of  Milli- 
ken's  Bend,  purposing  to  be  called  up  an  hour  before 
day  to  leave  the  boat  at  their  proper  landings,  had 

203 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"retired"  early,  saying  fond  good-bys  and  hoping  to 
meet  every  one  again.  The  ladies  had  astonished  Ram 
sey  with  kisses,  given,  doubtless,  she  thought,  because 
her  father  was  a  hero  and  her  mother  a  saint.  The 
squire's  brother-in-law  had  assured  her  that  her  broth 
ers,  all  three — as  Southern  boys  always,  or  almost 
always,  did — would  come  out  all  right — every  way; 
but  on  being  asked  for  details  he  had  slipped  away  to 
give  his  De  Bow  to  the  commodore  and  his  last  good- 
by  to  Hugh. 

The  actor  and  his  wife,  however,  were  as  broad  awake 
as  Watson.  Loving  the  lone  starry  hours  for  the  hours' 
own  starry  sake  and  having  for  Hugh  and  Ramsey  a 
certain  zeal  unconfessed  even  to  each  other,  they  were 
yet  in  view  from  the  pilot's  wheel  and  visitors'  bench 
at  this  hour  of  eleven,  staying  up  as  willingly  as  night 
ingales  with  the  young  husband  and  wife  who  had 
agreed  with  them  that  somebody's  mental  radius  "  cer- 
tain'y  had"  lengthened  as  suddenly  as  her  gown. 

This  young  pair  were  expecting  to  go  ashore  within 
the  next  half-hour  at  "New  Carthage,"  a  city  of  seven 
houses,  nearly  opposite  another  of  equal  pride  called 
Palmyra,  and  some  four  miles  above  the  head  of  Hurri 
cane  Island,  whose  foot  the  Votaress  was  then  passing. 
They  and  the  Gilmores  were  still  down  at  the  forward 
edge  of  the  texas  roof,  the  players  finding  the  Cartha 
ginians  very  attractive :  fluent  on  morals,  cuisine,  man 
ners,  steamboats,  the  turf,  fashions,  the  chase;  volu 
ble  on  the  burdensomeness  of  the  slave  to  his  master, 
the  blessedness  of  the  master  to  his  slave;  but  sore 

204 


PHYLLIS  AGAIN 

to  the  touch  on  politics  and  religion — with  their  relig 
ion  quite  innocently  adjusted  to  their  politics — and 
promptly  going  hard  aground  on  any  allusion  to  his 
tory,  travel,  the  poets,  statistics,  architecture,  orni 
thology,  art,  music,  myths,  memoirs,  Europe,  Asia, 
Africa,  homoeopathy,  or  phrenology.  It  entertained  the 
players  just  to  see  how  many  things  the  happy  lovers 
knew  nothing  about  and  to  hear  them  state  in  some 
new  form,  each  time  they  backed  off  a  sand-bar  of 
their  own  ignorance,  that  they  had  seen  the  world, 
sucked  the  orange,  yet  found  no  spot  of  earth  so  per 
fect  to  live  in  as  New  Carthage. 

The  briefest  sittings  at  such  entertainment  had  been 
enough  for  Hugh,  too  much  for  Ramsey,  and  had  driven 
them  back,  twice  and  thrice,  to  that  fairer  world  on 
high  in  the  pilot-house,  where  they  could  study  the 
river  undistracted.  There  and  thence,  now  together, 
now  apart,  they  had  gone  and  come  all  through  Wat 
son's  watch,  moved  by  Hugh's  duties  or  her  caprice. 
Their  each  new  meeting  had  been  by  accident,  but  it 
is  odd  how  often  accidents  can  occur — "  at  that  stage 
o'  the  game,"  thought  the  kind  pilot,  and  on  each  re 
currence  he  noticed  that  they  had  got  a  bit  farther  on 
in  the  story  of  Phyllis. 

"How  long  is  this  island,  Mr.  Watson?"  inquired 
Ramsey,  as  if  islands  were  all  she  was  sitting  up  for. 

"Two  mile'  V  a  half.  D'd  you  ask  me  that  be 
fore?  I  don't  hear  much  behind  me  if  it  ain't  hove 
right  at  me."  Stalest  device  of  the  sentimentalist — 
the  self-sacrificing  lie!  But  Watson  cared  not  for  its 

205 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

staleness  if  it  might  promote  the  game.  And  the  game, 
though  as  wanderingly  as  the  river,  went  on.  Without 
strict  order  of  time,  now  on  the  bench,  now  on  the  roof, 
early  and  late,  here  is  how  it  went: 

"You're  not  afraid  of  my  brothers,  are  you?  I'm 
not." 

"I'm  afraid  for  them.  And  for  my  father  and 
grandfather.  And  for  your  father  and  your  mother." 

"Good  gracious!"  laughed  Ramsey,  then  mused, 
and  then  asked:  "Ain't  you  afraid  for  me?" 

Hugh  said  nothing,  and  thenceforth  her  tone  grew 
more  maidenly  though  her  words  remained  childlike 
enough. 

"I  know  why  you  want  to  tell  me  about  Phyllis," 
she  added  more  softly.  "You  think  if  you  don't  my 
brothers  will." 

"They  don't  know  the  facts,"  murmured  Hugh. 

"Don't  they  think  they  do?  And  ain't  that  the 
trouble?" 

"Yes."  Hugh  thought  her  insight  surprising,  while 
she  enjoyed  the  spiritual  largeness  she  fancied  she  saw 
in  his  immobile  features.  "Yes,"  he  repeated,  "they 
think  they  do;  that's  the  trouble,  much  of  it." 

"How  do  you  know  they  don't?" 

"By  what  they  believe  and  by  what  I  know." 

"How  do  you  know  you  know?" 

"By  my  own  eyes  and  Phyllis's  own  lips." 

"Would  she  tell  you  things  she  never  told  any  one 
else?" 

"Yes,  things  she  never  dared  tell  any  one  else." 

206 


PHYLLIS  AGAIN 

Ramsey  pondered,  laughed,  and  pondered  and 
laughed  again:  "Why,  most  of  that  time  you  was — 
you  were — nothing  but  a  little  toddler.  Didn't  she 
love  you?" 

"She  hated  me." 

Ramsey  flinched  but  quickly  laughed  a  bright  un 
belief  to  the  youth's  face,  a  face  which  might  as  well 
have  been  a  wood-carving.  "Oh,"  she  cried,  "how 
ridiculous!" 

"She  used  to  flog  me,  cruelly." 

Ramsey  gasped:  "And  you  never  told?  Oh,  why — 
why ?" 

"She  said  she'd  kill  me — and  my  mother.  And 
she'd  have  done  it,  somehow." 

"But  she's  been  dead  ten  years!" 

"Has  she?" 

"Why,  of  course!  Wasn't  she  on  the  Quakeress 
when ?" 

"So  was  I." 

Ramsey  flinched  worse  and  stared  away  with  lips 
apart,  wondering  if  that  was  what  gave  him  that  look. 

"But  Phyllis,"  she  resumed,  "was  lost." 

"Was  she?" 

"Why  .  .  .  wasn't  she?  Mammy  Joy  says  my 
uncle — in  the  blazing  pilot-house — did  you  know  my 
uncle  Dan?" 

"Yes.  That  night,  half  an  hour  before  the  burn- 
ing- 

"Oh!   was  it  at  night?" 

"Yes.  I  was  sitting  with  Phyllis,  behind  him,  with 
207 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

him  at  the  wheel,  as  we're  sitting  now  behind  Mr. 
Watson." 

"Uncle  Dan  didn't  hate  you,  did  he?" 

"No,  indeed." 

"Then  why  didn't  you  tell  him  about  Phyllis?  He 
was  her  master,  you  know." 

"I  did.  He  wormed  it  out  of  me.  He  was  like  you 
— in  some  things." 

The  questioner  flashed  and  stared  but  then  dropped 
her  eyes.  "Did  he — have  red  curls?" 

"Yes,  redder  than  yours." 

"Humph!"  ...  She  mused.  .  .  .  "I'm  tired  here. 
Let's  go  down  by  the  Gilmores  and  walk — 'thort- 
ships!" 

They  went.  "Well?— about  Phyllis?  What  did  she 
whip  you  for?  Being  bad?" 

"Bad  or  good  was  all  one  to  Phyllis." 

"Wasn't — weren't — weren't  you  ever  bad,  Mr. 
Hugh?" 

"Frequently." 

"How  were  you  bad? — steal  jam? — eat  green 
plums?" 

"Yes;  had  fights,  went  in  swimming — in  snake 
holes- 

"D'd  you  tease  your  sisters? — pull  their  hair? — let 
the  sawdust  out  o'  their  dolls?" 

"Yes,  yes,  all  that." 

"Hmm!  that's  nothing.  Basile  and  I —  Ain't  you 
going  on?  Of  course,  if  you  don't  want  to  I — I  shan't 
worm.  Why  did  Phyllis — oh,  pshaw!" 

208 


PHYLLIS  AGAIN 

With  the  exclamation  came  such  one-sided  mirth 
that  Mrs.  Gilmore  looked  round.  But  her  husband 
said  there  would  never  be  anything  to  look  round  for 
while  "that  laugh"  kept  its  quality. 

Presently  Hugh  found  himself  murmurously  "going 
on"  and  Ramsey  listening.  It  was  a  great  moment  in 
both  lives.  If  we  cannot  see  it  so,  no  matter;  but  in 
still  depths  of  perception  below  all  formulated  thought 
both  the  youth  and  the  girl  were  aware,  separately, 
that  the  story  of  Phyllis  was  not  the  largest  fruit  of  the 
hour. 

Phyllis,  Hugh  said,  had  not  hated  him  alone.  In  her 
heart  had  burned  a  pure  flame  of  wrath  against  every 
member — save  one — of  the  fair  race  to  which  she  be 
longed  by  three-fourths  of  her  blood  but  by  not  one 
word  of  human  law.  Wronged  for  the  race  she  dis 
claimed,  she  hated  the  race  that  disclaimed  her. 
Hated  even  the  mothers  of  Hugh  and  Ramsey,  who 
abhorred  slavery,  a  slavery  enthralling  men,  women, 
children  in  whose  veins  ran  not  four  only  but  eight  and 
sixteen  times  as  much  masters'  blood  as  slaves'.  She 
hated  them  because  all  their  sweet  abhorrence  found 
no  deliverance  or  revenge  for  her.  Mitigations  there 
were,  but  mitigations  she  loathed.  The  uncompromis 
ing  quality  of  her  hatred  was  one  thing  that  had  made 
dissimulation  easy,  and  through  all  Hugh's  childhood 
she  had  practised  it  perfectly  in  every  relation  and  di 
rection  on  every  one  but  him.  Another  easement  had 
been  her  indomitable,  unflagging  triple  purpose  to  be 
free,  to  be  reunited  to  her  master,  and  to  be  revenged. 

209 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

And  a  third,  craftily  won  through  the  trustfulness  of 
Hugh's  Quaker  mother,  had  been  the  opportunity  to 
wreak  the  frequent  overflow  of  her  resentments  on  him. 
The  fact  that  he  was  almost  of  the  exact  age  of  her  own 
lost  offspring  had  forever  goaded  her,  and  to  him,  with 
each  maltreatment,  she  had  told  again  her  heart's  whole 
burden,  outermost  wrong,  innermost  rage,  thus  recover 
ing  poise  to  treat  his  sisters  and  brother  with  exemplary 
care  and  tenderly  to  discuss  with  their  mother  Hugh's 
precocious  reticence  and  gravity.  Always  she  had  held 
a  self-command  cunningly  tempered  in  the  fire  of  her 
triple  resolve  and  fitted  to  the  desperate  chances  with 
which  she  unceasingly  crossed  daggers.  She  never 
tired  of  telling  her  little  white  slave  that,  having  her 
self  once  got  the  lash,  she  was  only  paying  interest  on 
it  through  him.  Him,  at  least,  she  would  teach  to 
hate  slavery  as  she  hated  it. 

Hugh's  listener  moved  as  if  to  touch  him.  A 
boat  was  coming  by.  They  paused  in  their  "thort- 
ships"  walk  and  with  a  slight  choke  in  her  voice 
Ramsey  asked:  "You  know  what  I  hope?"  Her  voice 
went  lower.  "I  hope  you  learned." 

"That's  the  strangest  part,"  said  Hugh.     "I  did." 

The  boat  passed,  a  cloud  of  burning  gems.  "Go 
on,"  said  Ramsey,  "I  can  see  that  and  hear  you  at  the 
same  time." 

But  Hugh's  mind  was  too  masculine  for  such  leg 
erdemain  and  though  she  sighed  and  sighed  again  he 
waited  until  the  vision -grew  dim  astern.  Then,  as  he 
was  about  to  resume,  she  interrupted. 

210 


XXXI 
THE  BURNING  BOAT 

"WHERE  was  the  commodore  all  that  time?"  she 
asked. 

"  In  Europe.  We  did  business  there  too.  It  wasn't 
all  river  and  boats  those  days." 

"Humph!"  She  preferred  it  to  be  all  river  and 
boats. 

"But  at  length,"  said  Hugh 

"What  length?" 

"Ten  years.  Grandfather  was  coming  home,  to 
stay.  We  were  all  to  go  up  to  Saint  Louis  on  the 
Quakeress." 

"Phyllis  too?" 

"Yes,  to  meet  him  there  and  bring  him  back  with 
us." 

"Ten  years!"  marvelled  Ramsey.  "Hadn't  Phyl 
lis  ever  heard  from  my — from  Walnut  Hills?" 

"Now  and  then,  yes;  and  when  those  ten  years 
seemed  to  have  worn  her,  body  and  soul,  to  the  break 
ing  point " 

"You're  strange.    You  feel  tender  to  her  yet." 

"Perhaps  I  do.  One  day — night — she  got  word — I 
heard  it  from  my  nursery  bed — she  got  news;  news 
that  to  her  was  as  good  and  as  bad  as  news  could  be." 

211 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"That  he  was  on  the  river  again!"  guessed  Ramsey. 

"Yes,  relearning  it — it  changes  so  fast,  you  know — 
and  that  your  father  had  asked  my  father  to  employ 
him;  for  he  didn't  want  to  go  with  your  father." 

"No,  Hayles  will  fight  for  Hayles,  pop-a  says,  but 
they  won't  work  for  them." 

"Also  that  he  was  going  to  be  married.  But  Phyl 
lis  told  my  mother  so  meekly  that  the  past  was  all 
past " 

"And  she'd  seemed  so  good  for  so  long,  I  sup 
pose." 

"Yes — that  even  my  father  thought  it  was  past, 
and  when  we  went  aboard  the  boat  and  it  started  up 
the  river,  there  at  the  wheel  was  your  uncle  Dan." 

"You  didn't  dare  tell  on  her? — Oh,  you  were  only 
ten  years  old ! " 

"It  wasn't  that.  I  was  older  than  I  am  to-day. 
But  if  I  told  a  word  I'd  have  to  tell  all,  and  by  that 
time  she'd  made  me  believe  that  about  all  the  guilt 
was  mine." 

"Yours!  Well,  and  then?  Was  his  lady-love  on 
the  boat?" 

"No,  but  a  passenger  who  came  aboard  at  Natchez 
turned  out  to  be  the  overseer  Phyllis  had  once  run 
away  from." 

"Oh!  oh!  the  man  who  lost  the  child!  What  a  dif 
ference  that  must  have  made!" 

"Difference  a  wind  makes  to  a  fire.  And  yet  for  a 
time  things  ran  along  as  smoothly  as  the  old  boat." 

"She  wasn't  any  older  than  you." 
212 


THE  BURNING  BOAT 

"For  a  boat  she  was,  several  times.  Mr.  Watson/' 
asked  Hugh  from  the  roof  between  the  Gilmores  and 
the  pilot,  "what's  the  average  age  of  a  boat  on  this 
river?" 

"Average  age?  Well,  it  varies!  Say  about  five 
year'." 

Hugh's  voice  dropped  again.  "The  overseer  being 
aboard,  Phyllis  and  I,  to  be  clear  of  him,  were  allowed 
free  run  of  the  roofs,  and  I  being  the  captain's  son  it 
was  so  natural  to  see  us  often  in  the  pilot-house " 

"And  she  was  so  wary,  and  you  were  so  silent " 

"Yes — that  no  one  noticed  anything  and  the  past 
still  seemed  past.  One  day  your  uncle  Dan  told  me  of 
your  twin  brothers.  They'd  spent  half  a  year  with 
him." 

"Which  mom-a's  sorry  for  to  this  day.  They  wor 
ship  him  yet,  she  says.  Go  on;  skip  their  visit." 

"Well,  when  we  reached  Saint  Louis  I  knew  that 
he  and  Phyllis  had  agreed  on  something  perfectly 
joyful  to  her.  I  don't  know  even  now — what  it  was. 
She  was  to  be  set  free,  but  that  was  only  a  small  part." 

"Skip  again.     The  commodore  joined  you?" 

"No,  he  failed  us.  We  had  to  turn  back  without 
him." 

"But  with  Uncle  Dan,  of  course?" 

"Yes,  in  wedding  clothes.  And  with  the  overseer 
and  with  Phyllis.  She'd  tried  to  run  away  again,  in 
Saint  Louis,  but  she  couldn't  do  it  without  my  mother's 
help,  and  my  mother,  though  she  declared  the  laws 
were  shameful,  wouldn't  break  them." 

213 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"I'd  've  broken  them!"  whispered  Ramsey.  "Well, 
you  turned  back?" 

"Yes,  and  I  saw  at  once  there  was  something  hor 
ribly  wrong.  Day  and  night  Phyllis  was  frantic.  She 
hid  her  feelings  from  others,  wonderfully,  but  she 
poured  them  out  on  your  uncle  Dan.  It  was  then  he 
suspected  how  she'd  been  treating  me,  and  coaxed  me 
to  tell  him;  and  when  he  told  her  I'd  told  him  and  that 
he  would  tell  she  saw  she  was  at  the  end  of  every 
thing  and  I  thought  that  now  she  would  whip  me  to 
death." 

"Stop!  Stop!"  The  two  were  again  in  the  pilot 
house,  but  Watson,  just  then  jingling  his  engine  bells, 
was  too  busy  to  heed  anything  not  "hove  at  him." 
His  big  bell  had  sounded  for  New  Carthage,  and 
John  Courteney  had  appeared  down  forward  of  it, 
but  neither  Hugh  nor  Ramsey  was  enough  diverted 
to  answer  the  parting  hail  of  the  town's  two  residents 
joyfully  going  ashore.  "I  can't  stand  it!"  she  ran  on. 
"I  won't  hear  it!" 

"But  I  must  tell  you,"  murmured  Hugh. 

"Why  must  you?" 

"Because  of  what  you  have  already  heard  and  will 
hear  and  because  you  are  you;  who  you  are;  what  you 
are." 

"  Mr.  Hugh,  I'm  the  same  I  was  last  night  when  you 
and  your  father  were  talking  poetry  and  trying  to  get 
rid  of  me!" 

"Not  quite." 

"Well,  go  on;  they  quarrelled  and  you  thought  your 
214 


THE  BURNING  BOAT 

hour  had  come — it  seems  it  hadn't.  Go  on — if  you 
'must.7  " 

"I  must,"  he  said,  and  went  on.  "I  had  picked  up, 
that  day— it  was  the  third  day  out  and  we  were  down 
in  these  bends  and  had  taken  on  nearly  half  a  load  of 
cotton — I'd  picked  up,  where  your  uncle  Dan  had 
dropped  it,  a  small  paper  box  of  fusees — you  know? — 
matches  that  you  can't  blow  out.  Childlike,  guiltily, 
I  kept  them.  In  their  quarrel,  that  night,  Phyllis 
ended  by  imploring  your  uncle  Dan  not  to  tell  on  her. 
I  never  knew  what  supplication  was  till  then.  She 
wept  on  her  knees,  clinging  to  his.  When  she  had  to 
leave  him,  to  put  me  to  bed,  he  made  her  promise  never 
again  to  do  me  the  least  hurt,  and  swore  that  if  she  did 
he'd  sell  her  to  the  overseer. 

"We  went.  I  was  afraid  that  down  in  the  state 
room  she'd  find  the  fusees  in  my  pocket  and  that  I 
should  go  to  jail  as  a  public  thief.  But  she  stood  me 
in  the  middle  of  the  room,  threw  herself  on  my  berth, 
and  writhed  and  hid  her  face  and  beat  her  head  and 
looked  at  me  a  hundredfold  more  murderously  than 
your  uncle  Dan  had  ever  looked  at  her.  So  once, 
while  she  lay  still  a  moment,  I  slipped  out  onto  the 
guards,  and  as  I  lifted  my  hand  to  throw  the  fusees  into 
the  river  she  caught  it  in  hers,  it  and  them.  Then  for 
the  first  time  in  my  life  I  resisted  her.  I  fought.  Do 
you  know  what  a  cow-eat  is?" 

Ramsey  stared.    "No.-   Is  it  a  way  of  fighting?" 

It  was  not  a  way  of  fighting.  Cattle  often  eat  deep 
holes  into  cotton  bales.  "Ah,  yes!"  The  tale  went  on. 

215 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"I  fought  her,  and  somehow  the  fusees,  the  whole 
box,  got  lighted  and  were  dropped.  Whether  she 
dropped  them  purposely  or  not,  or  I  dropped  them, 
I'll  never  know;  but  they  fell  just  over  the  rail,  among 
the  cotton  bales,  and  we  saw  the  lint  in  a  cow-eat  about 
three  tiers  down  flash  like  gunpowder.  She  snatched 
me  back  into  the  stateroom,  shut  the  door,  and  stood 
clutching  me  wildly  and  listening.  'Say  your  prayers/ 
she  said,  and  knelt  with  me.  She'd  never  knelt  with 
me  before.  When  I  finished  she  had  me  go  over  them 
again.  She  did  not  say  them  with  me,  only  whimpered 
and  whispered,  and  fluttered  her  hands  on  my  head 
and  back.  She  made  me  begin  once  more,  but  before 
I  was  half  through  we  heard  the  watchman  run  along 
the  roof  close  over  us  and  cry:  'Fire!'  She  lifted  me 
to  my  feet,  whispering,  'Now!  Now!'  and  began  to 
put  a  life-preserver  on  me,  still  saying  over  and  over 
nothing  but  'Now!  Now!  Now!'  until  the  sounds  of 
alarm  were  everywhere,  and  just  as  she  sprang  into 
the  next  stateroom  to  rouse  the  other  children  my 
mother  came  into  it  from  the  main  cabin.  I  got  my 
little  brother  into  my  room  and  was  dressing  him  there 
while  my  mother  dressed  one  sister  and  Phyllis  the 
other,  when  your  father's  overseer,  who  had  once  fol 
lowed  the  river  himself,  came  down  the  cabin  shout 
ing  to  every  one  to  come  out  and  go  forward  and  was 
kicking  in  every  door  he  found  locked.  At  ours  he 
told  my  mother  not  to  mind  the  smoke— which  had 
grown  thick  and  choking — but  to  rush  us  all  straight 
through  it  to  the  boiler  deck  and  down  the  forward 

216 


THE  BURNING  BOAT 

stairs,  and  on  her  life  not  to  stop  for  life-preservers  but 
to  go  at  once.  So  she  and  Phyllis  ran  with  the  three 
little  ones;  but  I,  childlike  again,  had  got  the  notion 
that  life-preservers  were  forbidden  and  was  so  long 
getting  mine  off  that  Phyllis  turned  back  for  me. 

"That  delay  saved  my  life,  for,  as  we  ran  out  into 
the  cabin  together,  the  smoke  in  front  of  us,  forward, 
turned  red  and  then  went  all  to  flame,  and  right  in  the 
midst  of  it,  hurrying  toward  us,  we  saw  the  overseer. 
He  tripped  on  a  hassock  or  something  and  fell  and 
the  flame  literally  swallowed  him  alive.  We  sprang 
through  an  open  stateroom  and  climbed  a  wheel- 
house  stair  to  the  hurricane  deck.  There  we  saw  no 
one,  but  through  the  crackle  and  roar  of  the  flame, 
which  a  light  breeze  behind  us  sent  straight  up  into 
the  darkness,  I  heard  the  voice  of  my  father,  twice,  at 
his  post  in  front  of  the  skylights,  and  the  answer  of  the 
engine  bells  showed  that  your  uncle  Dan  and  the  en 
gineers  were  sticking  to  their  places.  We  were  landing 
in  a  strong  eddy  under  a  point  and  didn't  have 
to  round  to.  The  boat  was  wonderfully  quiet.  I  even 
heard — probably  because  the  shore  was.  so  close  ahead 
of  us — the  first  mate — same  that's  with  us  here  now 
— heard  him  ordering  the  stage  run  out  over  the  water, 
as  always  when  about  to  land.  I  heard  the  clerks  and 
others  telling  the  passengers  to  'keep  cool'  and  'not 
crowd,'  saying  there  was  room  and  time  for  every  one. 

"The  pilot-house  was  burning  brightly  on  one  side 
but  it  was  so  wrapped  in  smoke  that  your  uncle  Dan 
was  hid  from  Phyllis  and  me  till  the  boat  hit  the  bank. 

217 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Then  the  breeze  gave  us  a  glimpse  of  him  as  it  curled 
the  whole  blaze  forward  so  that  it  overarched  the  peo 
ple  who  filled  the  front  stairs  and  gangway,  waiting 
to  swarm  off  across  the  stage.  That  brought  panic 
and  the  panic  brought  death.  Some  male  passengers — 
we  couldn't  see,  but  our  hearing  was  like  sight — had 
got  all  the  women  and  children  to  the  front  of  the 
crowd  and  a  few  even  partly  out  on  the  stage,  over  the 
water,  to  be  the  first  put  ashore. 

"When  the  boat's  nose  struck  the  shore  the  back 
part  of  the  crowd  thought  the  landing  was  made  and 
began  to  push,  and  there  were  no  men  in  front  to  push 
back — for  some  of  the  boat's  family,  missing  Phyllis 
and  me,  had  run  aft  to  find  us — and  when  that  smoke 
rolled  down  on  every  one  the  push  became  a  rush  and 
suddenly  two  or  three  women  were  screaming  at  one 
edge  of  the  stage,  with  nothing  to  lay  hold  on  but  one 
another. 

"We  heard  their  cries  and  the  cry  of  the  crowd, 
through  the  crackling  of  the  fire.  My  mother  tried 
to  save  them,  with  her  three  children  clinging  to  her, 
and  the  whole,  six  fell  into  the  black  shadow  of  the 
freight  guards  and  the  swift  eddy  drew  them  under  the 
boat's  hull  before  a  thing  could  be  done  except  that 
two  of  our  men  jumped  in  and  sank  with  them." 

Ramsey  covered  her  face.  "What  did  your  father 
do?" 

"He  let  himself  down  by  one  of  the  derrick  posts. 
As  he  did  so,  and  when  they  who  had  tried  to  rescue 
us  had  failed,  the  mate,  who  is  a  famous  swimmer, 

218 


THE  BURNING  BOAT 

sprang  overboard,  as  near  the  larboard  wheel  as  the 
fire  would  let  him,  struck  out  round  it,  climbed  up  on 
it  into  the  paddle-box,  and  tried  to  reach  the  cabin  deck 
by  the  kitchen  stair.  But  a  sweep  of  the  flames  drove 
him  back  into  the  river,  and  he  was  just  sinking  when 
Mr.  Gilmore,  you  know,  drew  him  into  his  skiff. 

"At  the  same  time  your  uncle  Dan  came  tumbling 
down  from  a  pilot-house  window  and  staggered  with 
us  back  to  the  stern  rail,  for  all  the  stairs  were  burning. 
It  was  idle  to  call  for  help.  The  whole  thing  had  lasted 
but  a  minute  or  two.  Phyllis  didn't  want  help  and  we 
had  just  that  instant  to  get  down  in. 

"Those  who  had  gone  ashore  could  not  see  us.  The 
smoke  hid  us.  So  did  the  texas.  Your  uncle  Dan 
dragged  a  mattress  out  of  it  and  dropped  it  over  the 
stern,  away  down  onto  the  fantail,  scores  of  feet  below. 
The  flames  made  the  boat's  shadow  as  black  as  ink. 
We  thought  the  yawl  was  down  there,  but  some  of  the 
crew  had  swum  out  from  the  shore  and  pulled  away 
in  it  to  pick  up  the  mate — and  us,  of  course,  if  we  were 
with  him. 

"Your  uncle,  though  fearfully  burnt,  took  me  on 
his  back  and  showed  Phyllis  how  to  climb  down  beside 
him  by  the  bracket  work  and  posts  and  balustrades  of 
the  guards,  as  I  could  have  done,  but  he  wouldn't  let 
me. 

"  If  the  wind  had  been  the  other  way  we  should  have 
perished  right  there.  But  the  guards  of  the  ladies' 
cabin  ran  round  the  stern,  as  they  do  on  this  boat,  and 
her  fantail,  below,  stretched  still  farther  aft.  So  we  got 

219 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

down  to  those  guards  easily.  But  in  the  ladies'  cabin 
the  fire  had  worked  aft  faster  than  outside,  and  on 
those  guards  the  heat  was  torture.  We  could  only 
hang  from  them  and  drop.  Your  uncle  went  first, 
then  Phyllis  and  then  I,  he  catching  us,  for  down  there 
he  had  light  enough,  looking  up,  and  as  we  fell  the 
flames  shot  through  the  cabin  stern  windows.  He 
caught  us,  but  then  he  said,  'I'm  gone,  Phyllis/  and 
crumpled  down  at  her  feet.  Then  I  cried  for  help  but 
Phyllis  said  we  didn't  need  to  call,  and  we  didn't.  We'd 
been  seen  at  last,  on  the  guards  as  we  climbed  down. 
They  called  to  us  to  stick  to  the  boat  till  swimmers 
could  reach  us.  But  we  couldn't.  The  wind  had 
turned,  the  heat  was  worse  than  ever,  the  fire  had 
parted  the  boat's  lines  and  she  was  being  blown  out 
into  the  current.  Then  your  uncle  struggled  half  up 
again  and  helped  Phyllis  get  the  mattress  outside  the 
bull  railings,  where  I  climbed  out  and  held  it.  He 
asked  if  I  could  swim  and  when  I  said  yes  he  warned 
me  not  to  swim  to  the  shore  as  the  river  was  falling 
and  the  bank  caving,  but  to  float  with  the  mattress  and 
call  till  I  was  picked  up.  So  I  went  over  with  it. 
But  it  twisted  away  from  me.  I  swam  to  a  floating 
cotton  bale,  one  with  a  flicker  of  fire  still  on  it,  as  it 
drifted  up-stream  in  the  eddy.  At  the  same  time  I'd 
heard  your  uncle  and  Phyllis  strike  the  water  together, 
and  a  moment  later  I  saw  them — their  heads.  She 
was  holding  to  the  mattress  with  one  hand  and  to  him 
with  the  other.  But  presently  I  heard  her  give  a  low 
wail  and  saw  him  slip  from  her  and  sink.  Then  the 

220 


THE  BURNING  BOAT 

smoke  came  down  between  us,  and  by  and  by  the  re 
turning  yawl,  whose  men  had  heard  my  calls  and  had 
seen  Mr.  Gillmore's  skiff  pick  up  the  mate,  found  me 
on  the  cotton  bale  and  had  barely  lifted  me  in  when  I 
fainted  away." 

Ramsey  covered  her  face  again.  It  would  have  been 
joy  to  her  to  let  one  of  the  drops  that  melted  through 
her  fingers  fall  on  Hugh's  hand. 

Watson  cleared  his  throat.  "Sort  o'  inquirin*  fo' 
one  o'  you,  down  on  the  roof,"  he  said  without  looking 
back.  He  was  a  man  not  above  repeating  himself  for 
a  good  end.  "Third  time  they've  sung  out  to  me,  but 
— up  here  I  off'm  don't  notice  much  f'om  anywheres 
'at  ain't  hove  right  at  me." 

Ned  entered  and  silently  took  the  wheel. 


221 


XXXII 
A  PROPHET  IN  THE  WILDERNESS 

THROUGH  all  the  middle  watch  of  Sunday  night,  with 
her  Ned  quite  alone  in  the  pilot-house,  the  Votaress 
came  and  passed  from  crossing  to  crossing,  up  reaches, 
through  chutes,  around  points  and  bends,  a  meteor  in 
harness.  Such  she  seemed  from  the  dim  shores.  So 
came,  so  passed,  before  the  drowsy  gaze  of  that  strange 
attenuated  fraction  of  humanity  which  scantily  peo 
pled  the  waters  and  margins  of  the  great  river  to  win 
from  it  the  bare  elements  of  livelihood  or  transit, 
winning  them  at  a  death-rate  not  far  below  the  im 
migrant's  and  in  a  vagabondage  often  as  wild  as  that 
of  the  water-fowl  passing  unseen  in  the  upper  darkness. 

If  to  the  contemplation  of  the  Courteneys,  father 
and  son,  the  fair  craft,  "with  all  her  light  and  life, 
speeding,  twinkling  on  and  on  through  the  night,"  was 
"a  swarm  of  stars,"  or  "one  little  whole  world,"  how 
shall  we  see  her — with  what  sense  of  wonder  and 
splendor — through  the  eyes  of  the  flatboatman  or  the 
swamper,  the  raftsman,  the  island  squatter,  the  trad 
ing-scow  man,  the  runaway  slave  in  the  canebrake, 
the  woody ard  man,  or  the  "pirooter" — that  degen 
erate  heir,  dwarfed  to  a  parasite,  of  the  terrible,  ear 
lier-day  land-pirates  and  river-wolves  of  Plum  Point 

222 


A  PROPHET  IN  THE  WILDERNESS 

and  Crow's  Nest  Island  ?  To  such  sorts,  self-described 
as  human  snapping-turtles  and  alligators,  her  peacock 
show  of  innumerable  lights  was  the  jewelled  crown  of 
the  only  civilization  they  knew,  knowing  it  only  with 
the  same  aloofness  with  which  they  knew  the  stars. 
She  woke  them  with  the  flutter  of  her  wheels  as  of 
winged  feet  and  passed  like  a  goddess  using  the  river's 
points  and  islands  for  stepping-stones,  her  bosom 
wrapped  in  a  self-communion  that  gave  no  least  hint 
of  its  intolerable  load  of  grief  and  strife. 

Not  until  she  entered  the  great  bend  of  Vicksburg 
did  she  once  come  into  contrast  with  anything  that 
could  in  any  degree  diminish  her  regal  supremacy. 
There,  as  day  was  breaking,  she  entered  the  deep 
shadow  of  the  southernmost  "Walnut  Hill."  The 
town  on  its  crest  was  two  hundred  feet  above  her 
lower  deck,  and  the  stiff  Yazoo  squire,  his  kindly 
brother-in-law  and  sister  and  the  Vicksburg  merchant 
and  his  wife,  waiting  down  there  while  she  slowed  up 
to  the  wharf -boat  at  its  foot  to  let  them  and  others  off, 
were  proud  of  the  bluff  and  of  the  two  miles  of  sister 
hills  hid  by  it  and  the  night.  Even  overproud  they 
were.  The  two  husbands  and  wives  silently  wished 
for  that  lover  of  wonders,  the  sleeping  Ramsey,  that 
they  might  enjoy  her  enjoyment  of  the  sight,  who, 
though  from  exalted  Natchez,  never  had  beheld  so 
vast  an  eminence  or  a  city  stuck  up  quite  so  high. 

But  Ramsey,  far  removed  in  her  new,  sweet-smelling 
berth,  did  not  stir  from  a  slumber  into  which  she  was 
throwing  all  the  weight  of  an  overloaded  experience. 

223 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

She  was  paying  large  back  taxes  to  sleep  and  had  be 
come  so  immersed  in  the  transaction  that  her  mother's 
rising,  dressing,  and  stealing  away  lifted,  this  time,  not 
one  of  her  eyelashes.  In  not  a  sigh  or  motion  did  she 
respond  to  the  long,  quaking,  world-filling  roar  of  the 
Votaress's  whistle,  nor  to  John  Courteney's  tolling  of 
her  great  bell,  nor  to  the  jingle  of  lesser  bells  below, 
nor  to  any  stopping  or  reversing  or  new  going  ahead  of 
her  wheels  either  for  landing  or  for  backing  out  and 
straightening  up  the  river  again.  She  slept  on  though 
these  were  the  very  Walnut  Hills  of  her  uncle  Dan's 
and  Phyllis's  dark  story;  persevered  in  sleep  though 
John  Courteney's  son,  her  profoundest  marvel,  was 
once  more  up  and  out,  with  the  story  still  on  his  heart 
and  "a-happmin'  yit."  It  was  one  of  its  happenings 
that,  very  naturally,  though  quite  unreasonably,  he 
begrudged  the  sleeper's  absence  from  texas  roof  and 
pilot-house. 

The  Votaress  was  under  full  headway,  with  Vicks- 
burg  astern,  Watson  again  at  the  wheel  and  the  cap 
tain  in  his  chair.  The  most  northerly  of  the  Walnut 
Hills  were  on  the  starboard  bow.  Beyond  them  the 
sun,  rising  into  thunder-clouds,  poured  a  dusty-yellow 
light  over  the  tops  of  their  almost  unbroken  woods, 
here  and  there  brightening  with  a  strange  vividness 
the  tilled  fields  and  white  homestead  and  slave  quarters 
of  some  noted  plantation.  Between  the  hills  and  the 
river  lay  a  mile's  breadth  or  more  of  densely  forested 
swamp,  or  "bottom,"  swarming  with  reptiles  great  and 
small,  abounding  in  deer,  bear,  and  panther,  and  from 

224 


A  PROPHET  IN  THE  WILDERNESS 

which,  though  the  buffalo  had  been  long  banished,  the 
wolf  was  not  yet  gone.  On  the  skylight  roof,  close 
"abaft  the  bell,"  as  Ramsey  would  have  said,  stood 
the  commodore  and  Hugh.  They  had  just  met  there 
and  after  a  casual  word  or  so  Hugh  was  about  to  say 
something  requiring  an  effort,  when  they  were  joined 
by  the  exhorter. 

"Mawnin',  geiitle-men,"  he  said.  "Now,  what  you 
reckon  them-ah  po'  Gawd-fo'-saken'd  Eu-rope-ians 
down-stahs  air  a-thinkin'  to  theyseVs  whilst  they 
view  this-yeh  lan'scape  o'?  D'you  reckon  they  eveh, 
ev'm  in  they  dreams  o'  heav'm,  see  sich 

"  *  Sweet  fiel's  beyond  the  swellin'  flood 
Stand  deck*  in  livin'  green '  ? 

"I  tell  you,  gentle-men,  as  sho'  as  man  made  the  city 
an'  Gawd  made  the  country,  he  made  this-yeh  country 
last,  when  he'd  got  his  hand  in!  You  see  that-ah 
house  an'  cedah  grove  on  yan  rise?  Well,  that's  the 
old  '  Good  Luck  Plantation.'  Gid  Hayle  'uz  bawn  thah. 
His  fatheh  went  to  Gawd  f'om  thah  an'  lef  it  to  Dan, 
the  pilot,  what  'uz  lost  on  the  Qua' —  Hell!  listen  at 
me!  As  ef  you  didn't  know  that,  which  ev'y  sight  o1 
you  stahts  folks  a-talkin'  about  it!  But,  Lawd!  what 
a  country  this-yeh  'Azoo  Delta  is,  to  be  sho'!  Fo' 
craps!  All  this-yeh  Mis'sippi  Riveh,  you  mowt  say, 
fo'm  Cairo  down,  an'  th'  'Azoo  fo'  the  top-rail!  Fo' 
craps — an'  the  money-makin'est  craps!  An'  jest  as 
much  fo'  game!  Not  pokeh  but  wile  game;  fo'-footen 
beasts  afteh  they  kind  an'  fowl  afteh  they  kind.  An* 

225 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

ef  a  country's  great  fo'  craps  an'  game,  what  mo'  kin 
it  be  great  faw  what  ain't  pyo'  Babylonian  vanity  an' 
Eu-rope-ian  stinch?" 

The  commodore  admitted  that  game  was  a  good 
thing  and  that  crops  were  even  better. 

"No,  sir-ee!  Game  comes  fust!  Man  makes  the 
craps  but  Gawd  made  the  game !  It  come  fust  when  it 
fust  come  an'  it  comes  fust  yit!  Lawd  A'mighty!  who 
wouldn't  drutheh  hunt  than  plough,  ef  he  could  hev  his 
druthehs?  But  the  game  ain't  what  it  wuz,  not  ev'm 
in  this-yeh  'Azoo  country  an'  not  ev'm  o'  the  feathe'd 
kind.  Oh,  wile  turkey,  o'  co'se,  they  here  yit,  by 
thousan's,  an'  wile  goose,  an'  duck,  an'  teal,  by  hun- 
d'eds  o'  thousan's,  an'  wile  pigeon,  clouds  of  'em,  'at 
dahkened  the  noonday  sun.  Reckon  you  see'  'em  do 
that,  ain't  you?  I  see'  it  this  ve'y  season.  But,  now, 
take  the  pelikin!  if  game  is  a  fah'  name  fo'  him — aw 
heh,  as  the  case  may  be;  which  that  bird — nine  foot 
f 'm  tip  to  tip,  the  white  ones — use'  to  be  as  common  on 
this  riveh  as  cuckle-burrs  in  a  sheep's  tail ! "  The  jester 
laughed,  or,  more  strictly,  exhaled  his  mirth  from  the 
roof  of  a  wide-spread  mouth  in  a  long  hiss  that  would 
have  been  more  like  an  angered  alligator's  if  alligators 
used  fine-cut  tobacco.  It  was  addressed  to  the  com 
modore;  for  Hugh,  his  grandfather's  conscious  inferior 
in  human  charity,  had  turned  the  squarest  back — for 
its  height — aboard  the  Votaress,  to  gaze  on  a  wonder 
ful  sight  in  the  eastern  sky.  The  exhorter  resumed: 

"Why,  I  ain't  see'  a  pelikin  sence  I  use'  to  flatboat 
down  to  Orleans — f'om  Honey  Islan'  an'  th'  'Azoo 

226 


A  PROPHET  IN  THE  WILDERNESS 

City.  '  Pelikin  in  the  wildeh-ness,'  says  the  holy  book, 
but  they  ' can't  stan'  the  wildeh-ness!'  They  plumb 
gone! — vamoost! — down  to  the  Gulf! — what  few  ain't 
been  shot!"  He  grew  indignant.  "An'  whahfo'  shot? 
Faw  noth'n' !  Jeemany-crackies !  gentle-men,  it  makes 
my  blood  bile  an'  my  bile  go  sour !  Ain't  no  bounty  on 
pelikins.  Dead  pelikins  ain't  useful — naw  awnamental 
— naw  instructive,  an'  much  less  they  don't  tas'e  good. 
No,  suh,  they  jess  shot  in  pyo'  devil-ment  by  awn- 
gawdly  damn  fools — same  as  them  on  this  boat  all  day 
'istiddy  a-poppin'  they  pistols  at  ev'y  live  thing  they 
see' — fo'  no  damn'  reason  in  the  heab'ms  above  aw 
the  earth  beneath  aw  the  watehs  undeh  the  earth — 
Lawd !  it  mighty  nigh  makes  me  swah !  An'  I  feel  the 
heab'mly  call — seein'  as  that-ah  tub-shape'  Methodis' 
bishop  h-ain't  feel  it — fo'  to  tell  you,  commodo',  you- 
all  hadn't  ought  allowed  that  hell-fi'ud  nonsense  on 
Gawd's  holy  day." 

Even  to  his  grandfather's  response  Hugh  paid  no 
visible  attention.  The  eastern  sky  had  become  such  a 
picture  that  down  forward  at  the  break  of  the  deck 
John  Courteney  rose  eagerly  from  his  chair  and  looked 
back  and  up  to  be  sure  that  his  son  was  one  of  its 
spectators.  Yes,  Hugh  was  just  casting  a  like  glance 
to  him  and  now  turned  to  invite  the  notice  of  his  grand 
father.  The  thunder-clouds  had  so  encompassed  the 
sun  that  its  rays  burst  through  them  almost  exclu 
sively  in  one  wide  crater,  crimsoning,  bronzing,  and 
gilding  their  vaporous  and  ever-changing  walls.  Thence 
they  spread  earthward,  heavenward,  leaving  remoter 

227 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

masses  to  writhe  darkly  on  each  other  and  themselves, 
in  and  out,  in  and  in,  cloaking  this  hill  in  blue  shadow, 
bathing  that  one  in  green  light,  while  from  a  watery 
fastness  somewhere  hid  in  the  depth  of  the  forested 
swamp  under  the  hills — some  long-lost  bend  of  the 
Mississippi  or  cut-off  of  the  Yazoo — rose  into  the  flood 
of  beams  an  innumerable  immaculate  swarm  of  giant 
cranes.  Half  were  white  as  silver,  half  were  black  as 
jet,  and  from  moment  to  moment  each  jet  magically 
turned  to  silver,  each  silver  to  jet,  as  on  slowly  pulsing 
wings  they  wove  a  labyrinthian  way  through  their  own 
multitude  with  never  a  clash  of  pinion  on  pinion,  up, 
down,  athwart  and  around,  up,  down,  and  around  again, 
now  raven  black  across  the  sun  and  now  silver  and  snow 
against  the  cloud. 

An  awed  voice  broke  the  stillness  and  old  Joy  stood 
a  modest  step  back  from  Hugh's  side  with  rapt  gaze  on 
hill  and  sky. 


228 


XXXIII 
TWINS  AND  TEXAS   TENDER 

"  SIGN  f  om  de  Lawd ! "  droned  the  old  woman.  "  It's 
de  souls  o'  de  saints  in  de  tribilatioms  o'  de  worl'!" 

But  explanation  was  poor  tribute  to  such  beauty. 
Hugh  glanced  away  to  his  father,  then  around  to  the 
commodore,  up  to  Watson,  and  back  again  upon  the 
spectacle.  In  a  tone  of  remote  allusion  the  grandfather 
spoke:  "One  wants  a  choice  partnership  for  a  sight  like 
that." 

Hugh  cast  back  a  sudden  frown  but  it  softened 
promptly  to  a  smile  which  old  Joy  thought  wonder 
fully  sweet. 

"Late  sleepers,"  persisted  the  commodore,  "know 
what  they  gain  but  not  what  they  lose." 

"Naw  yit,"  audibly  soliloquized  the  nurse,  "what 
dey  makes  de  early  risen  lose."  She  added  a  soft  high- 
treble  "humph!"  and  gave  herself  a  smile  at  least  as 
sweet  as  Hugh's,  which  he  repeated  to  her  as  he  said: 

"Good  morning,  auntie." 

She  courtesied.  "  Mawnin',  suh."  They  need  not  have 
been  more  cordial  had  they  just  signed  a  great  treaty. 

The  Votaress,  swinging  westward,  left  the  picture 
behind,  and  the  neglected  exhorter,  caring  far  less  for 

229 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

cranes  and  clouds  than  for  pelicans  and  sinners,  re 
opened,  this  time  on  Hugh:  "But  that's  anotheh  thing 
'at  rises  my  bristles,  ev'm  ef  it  don't  the  bishop's." 

"What  rises  them?"  asked  the  solemn  Hugh,  the 
commodore's  attention  wandering. 

"Shell  I  spit  it  out?  Wall,  it's  folks  a-proj-eckin' 
togetheh — church  membehs  an'  non-membehs  a-proj- 
eckin'  togetheh — fo'  to  drownd  Gawd  A'mighty's  chas- 
tise-ments  in  the  devil's  delights.  You  know  they 
a-layin'  fo'  to  do  that  on  this  boat  this  ve'y  evenin'. 
You  know  they  a-prqy'-eckin'  fo'  to  raise  filthy  lucre 
by  fiddlin'  an'  play-actin'  an'  a-singin'  o'  worl'ly  songs 
an',  to  top  all,  a-dayncin'! — right  oveh  the  heads  o' 
the  sick  an'  dyin',  my  Gawd!  You  know  that,  don't 
you?" 

"Yes,  I'm  mixed  up  in  it." 

"An'  they  a-doin'  it  fo'  what?  Fo'  no  betteh  reason 
'an  to  he'p  them-ah  damn'  ovehwhelmin'  furrinehs  to 
escape  the  righteous  judg-ments  o'  the  Lawd!  Young 
brotheh,  my  name  is  Jawn.  Jawn  the  Babtiss,  I  am, 
an'  as  sich  I  p'otess!  An'  also  an'  mo'oveh  I  p'otess 
ag'in'  any  mo'  leadin's  f'om  them-ah  Tiscopaliam  play- 
actohs,  an'  still  mo'  f'om  that-ah  bodacious  brick-top 
gal  o'  Gid  Hayle's.  Which  she  made  opem  spote  o' 
my  leadin's  in  'istiddy's  meet'n'!  An'  o'  co'se!  havin' 
a  popish  motheh." 

"Oh! — my! — Lawd!"  gasped  Joy,  and  the  commo 
dore  had  begun  to  meet  protest  with  protest,  when 
Hugh  touched  him. 

"This  is  too  small  for  you.    May  I ?" 

230 


TWINS  AND  TEXAS  TENDER 

"Take  it,"  said  the  grandfather  and  turned  inquir 
ingly  to  the  nurse. 

"Yaas,  suh,"  she  hurried  to  say,  "my  mist'ess 
ax  de  honoh  to  see  you  at  de  stateroom  o'  Mahs' 
Basile." 

Meantime  Hugh  answered  the  complainant:  "My 
friend,  that  young  lady — you  mustn't  call  her  anything 
else  again — made  no  sport  of  you  whatever." 

"Oh,  dat  she  didn't,  boss!"  put  in  old  Joy,  breaking 
off  from  her  talk  with  the  commodore. 

"Honestly,  sir,"  continued  Hugh,  "I  was  afraid 
some  one  would,  but  I  happened  to  see  her  from  first 
to  last,  and " 

"Happ'm'd!  The  hell  you  happ'm'd!  Yo'  eyes  'uz 
dead  sot  on  heh  when  they'd  ought  to  been  upraise'  in 
prah!" 

Hugh  laughed — a  laugh  so  hearty  it  might  have  been 
the  brick-top's  own.  The  texas  tender  enjoyed  it  as 
he  bore  a  tray  of  dishes  from  the  room  of  the  twins. 
Down  beyond  the  bell  it  drew  the  father's  smile  and 
up  at  the  wheel  the  stoical  gaze  of  Watson.  Half  of 
it  was  for  the  exhorter  and  half  for  a  newcomer  at  tardy 
sight  of  whom  the  exhorter  paled,  certain  that  he  had 
been  overheard. 

"Oh!"  he  cried,  "I  ain't  meant  no  offence  to  nobody 
naw  tuck  none!"  and  eagerly  followed  the  commo 
dore's  beckon  to  go  below  with  him  and  the  nurse. 
Hugh,  still  smiling,  met  the  blazing  stare  of  Julian 
Hayle. 

"  Good  morning,"  he  said,  while  Hayle  was  inquiring: 

231 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"May  I  again  ask  of  you  a  word  in  private?" 

"Oh,  this  is  private  enough/'  said  Hugh.  "Every 
private  word  I've  had  with  you  so  far,  or  with  your — 
coterie,  has  been  so  unsatisfactory  to  you — and  them, 
and  so  tiresome  to  everybody,  I  can't  see  why  you 
should  want  another.  My  friend " 

"We  are  not  friends,  sir." 

"Well,  then,  let's  make  friends.  Here's  my  hand. 
I'm  utterly  ashamed  of  this  miserable  little  spat." 

Hayle  folded  his  arms.  "  You'll  find  it  life-size  before 
we're  done." 

"  Nonsense !  it's  too  small  for  words,  private  or  other 
wise.  Let's  end  it,  for  that  reason  if  for  no  better." 

"That's  not  your  reason,  sir.    You  have  another." 

"Yes,  I  simply  can't  quarrel  with  you." 

"  You — crawling — poltroon ! " 

Hugh's  smile  vanished  at  last.  He  gulped  as  though 
a  wave  had  gone  over  him.  But  he  remembered  his 
father.  Beyond  doubt  his  father  had  heard.  He 
glanced  down  to  him,  and  what  he  saw  was  worth  a 
year  of  commonplace  experience.  The  father  had  heard, 
yet  he  sat  at  ease,  his  knees  crossed  and  his  gaze  out 
forward  on  the  boat's  course.  Watson — but  what 
could  Watson  matter  then?  Hugh's  eyes  burned  big 
on  Hayle,  his  voice  deepened,  his  words  came  slow. 
"We  can't  fight  here  and  now.  I  can  only  put  you 
ashore.  Don't  make  me  do  that.  There's  trouble 
enough  on  this  boat  as  it  is.  You're  having  your  share. 
Mr.  Hayle,  I  fear — though  I  don't  know — that  Basile 
has  the  cholera." 

232 


TWINS  AND  TEXAS  TENDER 

"Damn  him  and  it!  You  wouldn't  fight  me  if  you 
could." 

"True." 

"Why?  On  your  father's  account — and  his  father's?" 

"On  everybody's.  Your  own  father's.  Your  moth 
er's." 

"My  sister's?"  The  question  was  a  threatening 
sneer. 

"Yes,  sir."  The  breakfast  bell  rang  merrily  below 
and  Hugh  turned  to  leave.  Julian  blazed  out  in  curses : 

"I  forbid  you  'that  young  lady's'  company  hence 
forth!" 

"And  that's  the  private  word  you  had  for  me?" 

"Yes,  damn  you!  I  know  who  sat  up  late  last  night. 
If  you  do  it  again  I'll  shoot  you  right  on  this  boat!" 

"  My  private  word  for  you,  Mr.  Hayle,  isn't  as  public 
as  that.  Only  I  and  the  texas  tender  know  it." 

"Most  fitting  partnership!" 

"  No,  it  was  entirely  his  own  enterprise.  While  you 
and  your  brother  were  getting  your  information  from 
him  he  got  your  weapons  from  both  of  you.  I  have 
them  in  the  clerk's  safe." 


233 


XXXIV 
THE  PEACEMAKERS 

SOME  four  of  the  Votaress's  "family,"  one  seated, 
three  standing  at  ease,  were  allowing  their  mild,  slow 
conversation  its  haphazard  way  under  barely  enough 
constraint  to  hold  it  in  the  channel  of  discretion.  It 
drifted  as  unpretentiously  as  a  raft  or  flatboat,  now  and 
then  merely  floating  without  progress,  like  a  floating 
alligator;  that  is,  with  one  small  eye  imperceptibly 
open  to  every  point  of  the  compass. 

He  who  sat  was  the  first  clerk,  a  man  of  thirty- 
seven  or  so,  and  therefore,  as  age  then  counted,  fairly 
started  on  the  decline  of  life.  He  occupied  the  high 
stool  in  the  clerk's  office,  his  limp  back  against  its 
standing  desk.  Nearest  him  the  second  clerk,  stand 
ing,  leaned  on  an  elbow  thrown  out  upon  the  desk  and 
rested  one  foot  on  a  rung  of  the  stool.  A  second  clerk 
might  do  that;  a  third  or  "mud"  clerk  would  hardly 
have  made  so  free.  The  youthful  mud  clerk,  with  his 
hat  under  his  folded  arms,  leaned  on  the  jamb  of  a 
door  that  let  back  into  the  clerks'  stateroom.  Op 
posite  him  the  youngest  of  the  four,  latest  come  among 
them,  stood  out  in  the  cabin  and  hung  in  over  the 
broad  window  counter,  across  which  the  office  did  busi- 

234 


THE  PEACEMAKERS 

ness  with  the  world.  Watson's  "cub  pilot"  he  was, 
on  the  sick  list,  thin  and  weak  with  swamp-fever. 

The  forenoon  watch  was  half  gone.  The  boat  was 
fluttering  along  at  high  speed  under  a  bright  but  fickle 
sky,  and  the  clerks  and  the  "cub"  hardly  needed  to 
glance  out  the  nearest  larboard  window  to  know  that 
she  was  already  turning  northward  into  a  pleasant 
piece  of  river  called  Nine  Mile  Reach.  A  certain 
Point  Lookout  was  some  five  miles  behind  in  the  east, 
and  the  town  of  Providence,  negligibly  small,  with 
Lake  Providence,  an  old  cut-off,  hid  in  the  woods  be 
hind  it,  was  close  ahead.  One  of  the  number  men 
tioned  the  boat's  failure  during  the  night  to  make  the 
miles  expected  of  her,  but  the  four  agreed  that  the 
cause  was  not  any  lack  of  speed  power  but  an  overplus 
of  landings  below  Vicksburg — two  being  for  burials — 
and  a  long  delay  at  Vicksburg  itself,  providing  for  the 
sick. 

This  explanation,  the  second  clerk  said,  had  been  as 
gratifying  to  the  planter  of  Milliken's  Bend  and  his 
"lady"  as  their  not  having  to  be  called  up  before  day. 
They  had  taken  breakfast  in  the  general  company, 
which,  with  the  commodore  at  one  end  of  the  cabin 
and  Hugh  at  the  other,  had  sat  down  when  Old  River 
and  the  mouth  of  the  Yazoo  were  on  the  starboard 
bow,  and  had  risen  while  passing  My  Wife's  Island. 
Finally  they  had  gone  ashore  in  great  elation,  thanking 
Hugh  with  high  voices  and  fervent  hand-shakings,  and 
his  father  with  wavings  from  the  bank  to  the  roof,  for 
the  "most  delightful  trip  anybody  ever  made";  care- 

235 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

less  as  infants  of  the  hundreds  of  strangers  gazing  on 
them,  both  native  and  alien,  both  woe-stricken  and 
self-content,  and,  even  when  the  great  wheels  were 
backing  the  boat  away,  calling  fond  messages  to  Hugh 
for  the  still  invisible  "Miss  Ramsey"  as  if  she  were 
in  his  exclusive  keeping  and  all  those  strangers  were 
trees. 

So  recounted  the  second  clerk,  not  to  criticise  such 
innocent  disdain  of  the  public  eye  and  ear — to  him  an 
every-day  sight — but  with  a  feeling  for  the  picturesque 
and  in  mild  humor  making  the  point  that  such  messages, 
so  given,  were  hardly  calculated  to  make  life  easier  for 
Hugh.  The  mud  clerk  and  the  cub  pilot  grunted  their 
accord  yet  privately  envied  Hugh.  To  be  message 
bearer  to  that  young  lady  would  have  been  rapture 
to  either  of  them  under  whatever  hardness  or  peril  of 
life,  the  more  the  better.  Oddly  enough,  with  Milli- 
ken's  Bend  now  forty  miles  astern  the  messages  had 
not  been  delivered. 

"No  fault  of  his,"  said  the  first  clerk,  the  second  said 
no,  and  the  mud  clerk  and  the  cub  loyally  echoed  them. 
For  they  knew,  at  least  the  three  clerks  knew,  always 
knew,  not  by  flat  inquiry  but  by  trained  perceptions 
and  the  alligator's  eye,  whatever  was  going  on  in  each 
and  every  part  of  the  boat.  Indeed,  the  boat's  news 
naturally  flowed  to  them;  flowed  to  and  ran  forth  again 
from  them,  aerated  and  cleansed,  as  normally  as  blood 
to  and  from  the  breast  of  a  strong  man.  By  the  sound 
of  the  steam  they  knew  the  water  was  right  in  the 
boilers.  By  the  rhythm  of  the  machinery  they  knew 

236 


THE  PEACEMAKERS 

all  was  right  in  the  engine  room.  They  could  have 
said,  nearly  enough,  how  soon  the  boat  would  have  to 
stop  again  for  wood.  To  them  the  quiet  of  the  pop 
ulous  boiler  deck,  where  nearly  every  man  sat  read 
ing  some  stale  newspaper  of  Louisville,  Saint  Louis, 
or  Cincinnati — brought  aboard  from  the  Vicksburg 
wharf-boat — was  informational,  witnessing  a  general 
resigned  admission  that  there  was  already  "trouble 
enough."  Of  three  notables  not  there  they  knew  that 
one,  the  bishop,  was  in  his  berth,  very  weary,  and  that 
the  senator  and  the  general  had  been  for  some  time 
with  Hayle's  twins.  They  could  have  greeted  every 
cabin  passenger  by  name.  They  knew  who  were  fill 
ing  the  places  lately  vacated  at  the  ladies'  table,  whose 
was  each  ubiquitous  child  selling  tickets  for  the  ap 
pointed  "show,"  and  whose  each  private  servant,  how 
ever  rarely  seen:  not  such  as  old  Joy  merely,  but  the 
senator's  black  Cato,  the  general's  yellow  Tom,  Mrs. 
Gilmore's  theatrically  handsome  Harriet,  or  the  nearly 
as  white  Dora  of  the  young  lady  from  Napoleon.  And 
they  knew  well  that  the  non-delivery  of  those  messages 
was  no  fault  of  Hugh's. 

Miss  Ramsey  was  up,  yes;  but  she  had  breakfasted 
in  seclusion  and  was  then  in  a  small  under-cabin  for 
ladies'  maids,  close  beneath  the  main  one,  rehearsing 
with  Mrs.  Gilmore  and  others.  Gilmore  had  been 
coaching  them  but  was  now  momentarily  out  on  the 
boiler  deck.  Through  the  extensive  glass  of  the  cabin's 
front  they  could  see  him  standing  before  a  knot  of  men: 
John  the  Baptist  and  the  man  with  the  eagle  eye  and 

237 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

the  man  with  the  eye  of  a  stallion  and  the  man  who 
knew  so  slap-bang  that  the  Hayles  and  Courteneys  had 
all  but  locked  horns  when  the  Quakeress  burned.  They 
were  the  only  exponents  of  unrest  out  there  and  only 
the  actor  wore  an  air  both  spirited  and  kind.  No  one 
in  the  office  openly  kept  an  eye  on  the  outer  group. 
In  there  the  gossip  lingered  on  Hugh.  Hugh  had 
plenty,  it  was  agreed,  of  the  Courteney  stuff  and  some 
thing  besides  which  these  four  hoped  was  the  very 
thing  with  which  to  meet  this  new  phase  so  plainly  at 
hand  in  the  Hayle-Courteney  contest. 

Suddenly  the  first  clerk  looked  straight  out  on  Gil- 
more,  so  obviously  at  bay,  and  murmured  to  the  cub 
pilot:  "Go,  bring  him."  While  the  cub  went,  the  clerk 
spoke  on.  Hugh,  he  said,  would  one  day  be  the  best- 
liked  of  his  name. 

In  kindly  dissent  the  second  clerk  shook  his  head, 
but  the  first  would  have  it  so.  The  liking  might  be 
slow  coming,  he  allowed,  because  of  Hugh's  oddities, 
but  in  the  end  men  would  like  even  the  oddities. 

The  mud  clerk  named  one  as  if  he  liked  it:  "When 
he's  by  himself  he's  got  the  iron-est  phiz " 

The  second  clerk  laughed  his  appreciation.  "And 
when  he's  poked  up,"  he  said,  "it  gets  ironer  and 
ironer." 

"  It'll  need  to  mighty  soon,"  observed  the  first  clerk. 

"When  he  runs  into  Gid  Hayle,"  said  the  second. 

The  actor  came.  His  pleased  manner  was  more 
thankful  than  inquiring  and  he  insisted  on  remaining 
outside  the  window  shelf  with  the  cub. 

238 


THE  PEACEMAKERS 

"Mr.  Gilmore,"  said  the  first  clerk  gravely,  "we 
thought  you  might  condescend  to  inspect  our  ceiling 
decorations  through  fresh  foliage." 

The  player  looked  puzzled  an  instant  but  a  smell 
of  mint  from  the  bar  cleared  his  mental  vision.  Yet 
again  he  declined.  Later  in  the  day  he  shouldn't  be 
so  coy,  he  admitted,  but  one  oughtn't  to  take  too  long 
a  running  start  for  his  jump  into  bed. 

"No,  he  might  get  there  too  soon,"  said  the  clerk. 
"My  boys,  sir,  want  to  ask  you  a  riddle.  You  know 
Gid  Hayle.  How  can  his  daughter,  here,  be  just  like 
him  for  all  the  world  and  yet  those  twins  be  just  like 
him  for  all  the  same  identical  world,  too?  " 

"Well  put!"  was  the  prompt  rejoinder.  "My  wife 
and  I  have  been  toying  with  that  riddle  these  twenty- 
four  hours.  Those  brothers  are  Gideon  Hayle's  sons 
if  ever  a  man  had  sons;  that  daughter  is  his  from  the 
ground  up;  yet  the  two  and  the  one  are  as  unlike  as 
night  and  noon." 

The  clerks -and  cub  pilot  agreed  so  approvingly  that 
the  actor,  lover  of  lines,  was  inspired  to  go  on  at  more 
length.  He  remarked,  in  effect,  that  he  had  never 
seen  so  striking  an  instance  of  a  parent's  natural  traits 
growing  into — blemishes — in  one  inheritor  and  into 
graces  in  another.  Yet  to  know  Gideon  Hayle  was  to 
read  the  riddle.  As  quick  to  anger  as  his  sons,  as  full 
of  mirth  as  his  daughter;  open-hearted,  wrong-headed, 
generous,  tyrannous,  valorous,  contemptuous  of  all 
book  wisdom  yet  an  incessant,  keen  inquirer  with  a 
fantastical  explanation  of  his  own  for  everything  in 

239 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

nature,  science,  politics,  or  religion.  Implacable  in 
his  prejudices,  he 

"Yes,"  interrupted  the  first  clerk,  with  amazing  ir 
relevancy,  "but  a  man  of  Henry  Clay's  experience 
ought  to  have  known  better.  Kossuth  is  a  gentleman 
who — well,  general,  how  are  you  now?  Mr.  Gilmore, 
you  know  the  general?  Senator,  you  know  Mr.  Gil- 
more?" 

"Assuredly!"  The  condescending  senator  had  known 
Mr.  Gilmore,  "a  day  by  contact  but  long  by  fame." 

The  general  was  civil  but  not  suave.  He  remembered 
the  player's  hard  names  for  the  committee's  dead 
scheme.  "Taking  care  of  Henry  Clay,  too,  sir?"  he 
asked  him.  "With  so  many  pleasanter  cares" — that 
meant  Ramsey — "you  might  let  Henry  Clay  take  care 
of  himself." 

"That's  something,"  put  in  the  second  clerk,  flush 
ing  defensively,  while  the  senator,  with  cigar  cocked 
one  way  and  his  silk  hat  another,  drew  Gilmore  aside, 
"that's  something  Henry  Clay  never  does." 

"  Right,  young  man.  He  merely  tries.  Th-there's  no 
one  in  the  nation  has  t-tried  harder  or  f-f ailed  worse!" 

The  youth  turned  to  his  work  at  the  high  desk. 
"Sir,"  said  the  general  to  the  first  clerk,  who  rose, 
"the  senator  and  I  have  been  up  to  your  texas " 

"Contrary  to  orders,"  mildly  said  the  first  clerk. 

"I  admit  it,  sir,  but  our  intentions  were  only  th-the 
k-kindest.  It  seems  to  us,  sir,  or  to  me — us  or  me,  sir, 
as  you  will — that  th-those  sons  of  our  old  friend  Hayle 
are  not  getting  justice." 

240 


THE  PEACEMAKERS 

"They  ought  to  be  mighty  glad  of  that,  general." 

"  S-s-sir,  they'd  rather  have  it !  We  admit,  of  course, 
— we  or  I — I,  if  you  prefer,  sir,  or  if  the  senator  pre 
fers — I  admit  they  are  not  unbiassed." 

"No,  I  admit  they're  not." 

"Th-they  are  supe-perbly  stiff-necked  and  illogical 
young  barons  from  four  centuries  back,  sir,  without  a 
f-f-fault  that  isn't  a  v-v-virtue  overdrawn — or  out  of 
date." 

The  speaker  turned  to  the  actor  and  senator  and 
they  to  him:  "  If  those  boys  have  the  pride  of  L-1-lucifer, 
Mr.  Gilmore,  they  have  also  his  intrep-idity.  Th-they 
may  be  as  high-headed  as  giraffes,  sir,  but  they're  as 
s-s-straightf-f -forward  as  a  charging  bull!  Mr.  clerk, 
the  splendid  surge  of  their  imp-pulses  should  excuse 
their  f-f-foibles  even  if  their  s-s-souls  were  not  wr-wri- 
writhing  under  the  lash  of  a  new  whip  on  old  sores, 


sir." 


"Will  you  just  make  that  a  little  clearer,  general?" 

"  I  will,"  softly  put  in  the  senator — "  by  your  leave, 
general?" 

With  limp  majesty  the  general  waved  permission. 

"All  for  peace,  however,"  said  the  senator  smilingly 
to  the  clerk.  "There's  been  enough  strife." 

"Never  saw  so  much  aboard  boat,"  said  the  clerk. 

"Well," — statesman  and  clerk  laid  elbows  on  the 
shelf  and  dropped  their  voices  while  the  actor  and  the 
general  drew  a  step  aside, — "this  thing  can  be  settled 
only  by  the  right  friends  and  it's  now  or  never."  The 
two  exchanged  a  look  but  the  clerk  was  mute  and  the 

241 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

senator  spoke  on:   "You've  heard  of  Dan  Hayle — 
and  the  girl  Phyllis,  hmm?" 

"I  was  first  clerk  on  the  Quakeress  when  she  burned." 
"Why,  so  you  was.  These  twins  believe,  bitterly, 
that  in  that  mysterious  disaster  all  due  search  for 
their  uncle  was  neglected  to  save  the  captain's  son 
and  that  the  girl  and  Dan  Hayle  were  never  fully  ac 
counted  for." 

"Shucks!    Why — Dan — it  was  I  found  Dan's  body." 
"Yes,  but  they  call  it  an  outrage  for  him  to  have 
been  there  at  all;  to  give  him  the  wheel  and  take  her 
aboard  on  the  same  trip." 

"  Law'!  what  did  she  count,  with  him  about  to 
marry?" 

"Why,  they  think  that  for  that  very  reason  John 
Courteney  let  his  wife — from  Philadelphia,  you  know 
— abolitionist — bring  the  girl  and  Dan  together,  hop 
ing  he'd  either  set  her  free  or  else  skip  the  wedding  and 
somehow  disgrace  the  whole  Hayle  family.  Just  those 
boys'  guess  but — they  believe  it.  What  they  see-  is  a 
Hayle  killed  and  no  one  killed  for  him." 

"Oh,  we  settled  that  with  their  dad  ten  years  ago." 
"They  say  not.  And,  really,  you  know,  some  of  the 
liveliest  feuds  along  this  river  are  founded  on  less 
cause.  Gid  Hayle,  they  claim,  couldn't  bring  the 
Courteneys  to  taw  at  the  time  because  the  only  men  he 
had  to  back  him  were  his  two  in-laws.  Now  these 
twins  are  men  and  they  feel  honor-bound  to  throw 
down — no,  to  take  up — the  gage,  thrown  down  to 
them  every  hour  they've  been  on  this  boat." 

242 


THE  PEACEMAKERS 

"Shoo!    They've  been  treated  only  too  well." 

"Tactfully,  do  you  think?" 

"  Depends  on  what  you  call  tact.  Ordinary  tact's  the 
worst  thing  you  could  throw  at  'em."  The  clerk  spoke 
with  both  eyes  on  the  general  and  the  actor.  His 
fellow  clerk,  second  clerk,  had  nudged  him.  The  gen 
eral  was  raising  his  voice  to  the  actor. 

"They  f -forbid  your  lady  to  chaperon  their  sister, 
since  you  both,  last  evening,  all-llowed  young  Courte- 
ney  to  give  her  his  account  of  the  b-urning  of  the 
Quakeress." 

"General!"  the  smiling  senator  cautioned  him, 
"privately,  if  you  please!  more  privately!" 

But  the  soldier  persisted.  "Th-they  even  suspect 
you,  sir,  of  s-s-piriting  off  to  Canada  their  s-s-lave 
p-roperty,  missing  after  that  event." 

"Why,  gentlemen,"  began  the  player,  looking  very 
professional  but  also  very  handsome,  and  with  a  flash  of 
annoyance  only  when  he  noticed  that  the  exhorter  had 
joined  the  group,  "I  never  in  my — nonsense!  fantas 
tical  nonsense!  Why,  I'll  be — I'll  see  you  later!  At 
present,  as  I've  already  said,  I'm  overdue  at  that  re 
hearsal." 

"Yes,  Mr.  Gilmore,"  said  the  first  clerk,  "you  are." 

"A  moment,"  interposed  the  senator.  "Purely  in 
the  interest  of  peace,  Mr.  Gilmore " 

"Oh,  senator,"  the  actor  amiably  laughed,  "I  don't 
question  your  good-will,  or  the  general's;  but  you  don't 
know,  either  of  you,  the  interest  of  peace  when  you 
run  against  it — pardon!  I  take  that  back.  My  an- 

243 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

noyance,  at  quite  another  thing,  flew  off  the  handle. 
I  take  it  back.  Excuse  me,  I'll  make  it  a  point  to  see 
you  later."  The  three  bowed.  As  he  started  away  the 
exhorter  blocked  his  path. 

"Excuse  me"  said  the  zealot.  "Fust  tell  us:  Ef 
ye  mowt  sperit  a  niggeh  off  to  Canady  would  ye  aw 
wouldn't  ye?" 

For  an  instant  the  player  stood  mute  and  then  he 
said  only,  in  a  preoccupied  tone:  "Please  let  me  pass." 
But  at  the  same  time  he  laid  his  unexpected  left  hand 
lightly  on  the  questioner  and  by  some  stage  trick  sent 
him  stumbling  aside  along  a  line  of  chairs  and  toppling 
to  the  floor.  The  cub  and  the  younger  clerks  had  him 
up  in  a  twinkling,  while  a  dozen  men  appeared  from 
the  boiler  deck  as  if  by  magic,  and  the  player  walked 
away  down  the  cabin. 

"  Now,  no  more  noise  here,  said  the  second  clerk  to 
the  lifted  man,  restraining  both  his  arms.  "No,  you 
stay  right  here.  He  didn't  do  a  thing  to  you,  you  just 
stepped  a  little  too  spry  and  sort  o'  tripped  up." 

From  his  window  shelf  the  first  clerk,  in  the  tail  of 
his  eye,  saw  the  zealot  and  his  group  disperse  while 
he,  the  clerk,  talked  laughingly  to  the  soldier  on  one 
subject  and  gravely  to  the  statesman  on  another. 

"You  can't  challenge  a  man,  general,"  he  said, 
"who  apologizes  for  calling  you  a  poor  peacemaker." 

"By—!   s-sir,  I  can  and  I  sh-shall!"  was  the  retort. 

The  clerk  ignored  it.  He  and  the  senator  bent  heads 
together  again.  "No,"  he  said,  "Hugh  only  told  him 
he  feared  it  was  Basile.  In  fact,  it  wasn't.  It  isn't." 

244 


THE  PEACEMAKERS 

"Who  is  it,  then?    It's  a  passenger  and  a  bad  case." 

"Will  you  keep  it  dark — by  the  patient's  own  re 
quest — till  the  show's  over  to-night?" 

The  senator  nodded.  The  two  heads  came  closer. 
The  general  scorned  to  listen.  The  name  did  not 
reach  him. 

"Jove!"  gasped  the  senator.  "Come,  general." 
They  went. 

The  first  clerk  turned  to  the  second  clerk's  elbow  at 
the  high  desk,  saying  dryly:  "They  came  to  demand 
those  shooting-irons  and  couldn't  muster  the  brass." 


245 


XXXV 

UNSETTLED  WEATHER 

AGAIN  the  Votaress  was  passing  the  Westwood  and 
again  was  but  a  short  mile  behind  the  Antelope. 

Led  by  Ramsey,  the  amateur  players,  including 
Hugh,  had  stopped  rehearsing  and  were  on  the  sky 
light  roof,  gathered  about  the  commodore,  the  Gil- 
mores,  and  the  bell.  In  their  company,  though  below 
them  on  the  forward  hurricane  deck,  the  first  mate 
leaned  bulkily  against  the  roof  on  which  they  stood. 
It  was  his  watch.  Ned  was  up  at  the  wheel. 

As  early  as  the  evening  before,  a  good  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  back  down  the  river,  the  Antelope,  it  will  be 
remembered,  had  been  close  on  the  Westwood's  heels. 
So  Gilmore  reminded  his  wife.  So  Hugh  needlessly  re 
minded  Ramsey.  From  the  mate  it  was  further  learned 
that  the  pursuer  had  overhauled  the  pursued  between 
Petit  Goufre — which  he  and  the  whole  company 
called  Petty  Gulf — and  Grand  Gulf;  places  named 
before  the  days  of  steam  for  their  dangerous  eddies. 
Yet,  he  went  on  to  tell  Ramsey,  the  swifter  boat,  with 
more  freight  to  put  ashore  and  with  a  larger  appetite 
for  cord-wood,  had  never  got  clean  away.  Even  now, 
in  full  view  ahead,  she  was  down  at  half  speed,  wooding 
up  from  a  barge  in  tow  alongside.  You  could  hear  her 

246 


UNSETTLED  WEATHER 

crew  singing  as  they  trotted  under  their  great  shoul 
der  loads  of  wood.  The  amateurs,  except  Hugh  but 
including  Ramsey,  caught  up  their  song  and  were 
promptly  joined  by  a  group  around  the  bell  of  the 
Westwood  as  that  gallant  loser  foamed  along  between 
the  Votaress  and  the  shore: 

"Oh,  if  I  had  a  scolding  wife, 

As  sure  as  you  are  born 
I'd  take  her  down  to  Noo  Orleans 
And  trade  her  off  for  corn." 

Presently  the  Antelope  cast  off  the  emptied  flat  in 
midstream,  and  a  redoubled  whiteness  behind  her 
paddle-boxes  showed  full  speed. 

"Now  we  can  give  her  a  square  deal!"  said  a  youth. 

"And  pass  her  inside  of  an  hour!"  declared  another. 

"In  Bunch's  Cut-off!"  ventured  one  to  the  commo 
dore,  but  the  commodore  said  the  Votaress  herself  was 
hungry  for  wood,  and  the  mate  confirmed  him  by  a  nod. 

"How  much  wood,"  some  one  asked  the  mate,  "will 
a  boat  like  this  -rise  up  in  twenty-four  hours?"  It 
quickened  the  blood  to  be  up  here  midway  between 
these  turbid  waters  and  yonder  passionate  sky  so 
joyous  in  one  quarter,  so  angry  in  another;  particu 
larly  to  be  here  while  steadily  distancing  one  beautiful 
boat  and  overtaking  another  "amid  green  islands,"  as 
Mrs.  Gilmore  quoted — one  of  which,  still  in  sight 
astern,  was  that  old  haunt  of  flatboat  robbers,  called 
Island  Ninety-four,  Stack's  Island,  or  Crow's  Nest. 
One  half  forgot  the  sad  state  of  affairs  below.  Conver- 

247 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

sation  glided  as  swiftly  as  a  flock  of  swallows  and  in 
as  many  directions. 

"How  much  wood?"  said  the  mate.  "Well,  that 
sort  o'  depends.  I  once  part  owned  a  boat  that  fo' 
one  whole  month  didn't  burn  enough  wood  to  dry  the 
sheriff's  shoes,  but  that  'uz  'cause  he  kep'  her  tied  up 
to  the  bank." 

Ramsey  did  not  hear  this  and  cared  nothing  for  the 
laugh  it  won.  She  had  seen  the  doctor  and  the  priest 
slip  from  the  twins'  room  in  the  texas  and  go  below 
aft.  "How's  mom-a?"  she  eagerly  asked  the  com 
modore. 

"Very  well." 

"  How's  Lucian?" 

Lucian  was  so  much  better,  he  told  her,  that  both 
brothers  had  been  returned  to  their  cabin  stateroom. 

"Then  you've  just  put  a  new  case  into  the  texas!" 

The  commodore  smiled.  "Yes,  from  the  freight 
deck." 

"Freight— humph!  That's  the  lower  deck,"  she 
reminiscently  said,  turning  to  Hugh.  "Who  is  it? 
Is  it— Otto?" 

But  Hugh's  face  wore  its  absurd  iron  look,  which  had 
its  usual  effect  on  her.  The  old  man  spoke :  "  Will  Miss 
Ramsey  do  us  all  a  favor;  one  that  will  help  the  play?" 

"Whew,  yes!    That'll  help  everything.    What  is  it?" 

"It's  to  make  no  mention  of  the  new  case  to  any 
one." 

"Till  the  close  of  the  evening,"  put  in  the  Gilmores, 

and  Ramsey  saw  that  they  knew.     Yet 

248 


UNSETTLED  WEATHER 

"All  right,"  she  said.  "Oh,  I  know  who  it  is." 
She  tossed  her  curls.  "It's  Otto's  mother."  But 
both  tone  and  glance  lacked  conviction.  The  com 
modore  left  them. 

Meantime  the  mate  was  amusing  his  half  of  the 
company. 

"How  much  wood,"  he  was  repeating.  "I  as't 
that  myself  once  'pon  a  time.  D'dy'ever  hear  the 
answer?  They  tell  the  yarn  on  lots  o'  loons  but  I  'uz 
the  real  one  V  I  got  the  answer  f 'm  Gid  Hayle  aboard 
the  old  Admiral." 

The  names  caught  Ramsey's  ear  and  drew  her  gaze. 
"That  Admiral,"  continued  the  mate,  "could  eat  wood 
like  a  harrikin.  Says  Hayle  to  me:  'Well,  that  de 
pends  on  yo'  boat  V  yo'  wood.  With  the  right  boat 
V  the  right  wood — oak,  ash,  hickory — y'ought  to 
burn  f  m  sixty  to  sevemty  cord*  a  day.  But  ef  yo' 
feed'n'  this  boat  cottonwood,  why,  yo'  simply  shovel- 
lin'  shavin's  into  hell.' ' 

Ramsey  looked  sad.  Weary  of  contrasts  unflattering 
to  her  men-folks,  she  glanced  from  the  refined  actor 
to  the  elegant  old  commodore,  blushed  to  the  player's 
wife  and  accepted  her  embracing  arm.  "Yass,"  pur 
sued  the  mate,  "s'e  jest  so:  'Yo'  simply  shovellin' 
shavin's- 

It  was  not  Hugh's  motion  that  cut  him  short  but 
Ramsey's  voice  as  with  a  flash  she  said:  "Go  on.  I 
don't  care!  If  pop-a  said  it  it's  so!" 

A  raindrop  wet  her  cheek.  From  the  pilot-house 
Ned,  as  he  pulled  the  wheel  over  to  chase  the  hard- 

249 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

pressed  Antelope  westward  into  Bunch's  Cut-off,  warn- 
ingly  drawled  that  they  were  about  to  run  into  a  shower. 
At  his  side  Watson's  cub  was  letting  down  the  storm 
board.  A  blue-black  cloud  overhanging  the  green  head 
of  the  cut-off  had  suddenly  widened  across  all  that 
quarter  and  turned  leaden  gray.  A  writhing  wind 
struck  the  boat  fairly  in  front.  The  waters  ruffled, 
flattened,  and  seemed  to  run  faster.  On  an  island 
close  abeam  thousands  of  young  cottonwoods,  a  man 
tle  of  unbroken  verdure,  bent  low,  paled,  reeled,  dark 
ened,  and  whipped.  Dead  ahead,  a  flash  of  lightning 
dropped  from  zenith  to  sky-line,  stood  blindingly  quiv 
ering,  and  scarcely  had  vanished  when  the  thunder 
cracked  to  split  the  ear. 

"Scoot,  ladies,"  said  the  mate,  "or  in  three  shakes 
you'll  be  as  wet  as  the  river!"  A  single  glance  up  the 
stream — though  Ramsey  must  needs  take  a  double  one 
— showed  the  rain  coming,  so  near  and  so  dense  that 
not  a  sign  of  the  Antelope  was  visible.  The  company 
fled,  some  to  a  larboard  stair,  some  to  a  starboard. 
Hugh  and  Ramsey  suddenly  missed  the  Gilmores,  the 
Gilmores  missed  them,  each  pair  turned  to  find  the 
other,  the  lashing  rain  leaped  down  upon  them  as  if 
they  were  all  it  had  come  for,  and  with  words  lost  in  a 
second  thunder-clap  the  mate  threw  open  the  cap 
tain's  room,  pressed  them  in,  and  began  to  dry  them 
with  a  whisk-broom.  The  captain,  he  said,  was  be 
low.  "Off  watch  didn't  mean  off  watch  to  John 
Courteney." 

"Nor  to  Gideon  Hayle,"   prompted  Ramsey,  and 

250 


UNSETTLED  WEATHER 

while  he  ha-haed  a  cordial  assent  she  asked:  "Where 
abouts  below  is  he — Captain  Courteney?"  But  the 
mate  had  turned  away  and  she  asked  Hugh:  "Where's 
your  father?  What's  he  doing?"  Her  thought  was 
still  on  the  unmentionable  new  case. 

"I'll  tell  you,"  said  Hugh  in  the  low  voice  she  liked 
so  well.  "Will  you  look  at  the  river  with  me?" 

He  felt  her  responsive  nod  and  smile  even  after  they 
had  moved  to  the  front  window  farthest  from  their 
three  seniors  and  stood  gazing  out  into  the  beautiful 
tempest.  Both  wind  and  downpour  had  somewhat 
slackened  their  fury.  A  bit  nearer  than  before  and 
more  to  starboard  they  could  faintly  make  out  the 
Antelope,  so  white  that  it  seemed  as  if  she  had  gone 
down  and  her  ghost  come  up  wrapped  and  whipped  in 
sheets  of  rain. 

"You  don't  ask  me  about  your  mother,"  said  Hugh. 


251 


XXXVI 
CAPTAIN'S  ROOM 

"Ail! — when  youVe  been  all  this  time  with  us!" 

"No,  once  I  was  away,  a  good  while." 

"That's  so!  And  while  you  was  away — were 
away — "  In  lively  undertone  Ramsey  ran  on  to  tell 
of  Mrs.  Gilmore's  having  in  Hugh's  absence  called  in 
her  maid  Harriet  to  show  the  young  lady  from  Na 
poleon  how  to  do  a  bit  of  stage  business  without  a 
hint  of  the  stage.  At  the  tale's  end  the  pair  glanced 
round  from  the  nearing  Antelope  to  the  Gilmores  and 
back  again.  "Harriet's  talented.  You  wouldn't  think 
she  could  be  talented.  And  isn't  she  handsome!" 

"I've  yet  to  see  her  face,"  said  Hugh  abstractedly. 

"That's  so,  too!  When  she  heard  you  coming  back 
that  time,  she  ran  like  a  kildee."  The  narrator  checked 
a  laugh.  "How's  mom-a?  Oh,  she's  well  or  you'd 
have  told  me.  I  just  can't  imagine  mom-a  any  way 
but  well."  But  again  the  tone  betrayed  incertitude. 

"  Yes,  she's  well,"  said  the  youth.    "  So  is  my  father." 

"Where  is  he?" 

Hugh's  queer  solemnity  deepened.  "He's  aown  in 
a  stateroom  with  your  brothers.  The  senator  and  the 
general  have  just  joined  them." 

252 


CAPTAIN'S  ROOM 

What  a  freshet  of  grave  information!  Ramsey 
laughed  straight  at  him.  "You  talk  like  a  trance 
medium/' 

"Not  at  all." 

"You  do!    I  heard  one  once.    You're  in  a  trance 


now." 


"Not  at  all." 

"  You  are !  Y'always  are."  When  Hugh  laughed,  her 
laugh  redoubled.  The  mate  and  the  players,  though 
busy  talking,  took  time  to  smile;  the  mate  winked  an 
eye.  Suddenly  Ramsey  sobered.  "Is  Basile  in  hot 
water  again?  Tell  me  quick." 

"Tell  me  first,"  said  Hugh,  "why  his  two  broth 
ers " 

"Are  so  wild?  Because  pop-a  won't  allow  mom-a 
to  hold  them  in.  Pop-a  says:  'Oh,  let  'em  sow  their 
wild  oats  early,  like  me;  so  deep  they'll  never  come  up.' 
Oh,  my!  they're  up  now." 

"I  wasn't  going  to  ask  that." 

"Well,  I  can't  tell  if  you  don't  ask." 

"Why  do  they  keep  themselves  so  apart  from  you?" 

"Me?     Oh,  they  just  can't  stand  me! — nor  even 


mom-a." 


"That's  bad,  for  all  of  us." 

"All  of— who?  Oh!  ...  Humph!  ...  Oh,  but 
it's  worse  for  Basile!  He  goes  with  them  till  he's  sick 
of  'em.  then  tries  mom-a  and  me  till  he's  just  as  sick 
of — of  me — and  himself — and  then  strays  off  to  who 
ever  he  can  pick  up  with!" 

"This  time,"  said  Hugh,  "he's  been  picked  up." 
253 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Oh,  now  what's  happened?" 

"He  sickened  of  those  boys  and  girls  he  was  selling 
tickets  with  and  to  drown  yesterday's  recollections  he 
took  a  hand  at  cards  with  two  strangers." 

Ramsey  caught  her  breath  but  then  laughed  joy 
ously.  "He  couldn't!  He  had  no  money!" 

"Except  from  his  sale  of  tickets." 

"  Oh ! "  Her  tears  started.  "  Oh,  where  was  mammy 
Joy?" 

"Nursing  the  sick." 

"The  new — ?"  She  barely  escaped  breaking  her 
word.  "  Oh,"  she  moaned,  "  he  didn't  use  that  money?  " 

"  He  lost  it.  He  was  wild  to  play  on  and  recover  it, 
and  his  brothers  were  as  eager  to  have  him  do  it." 

"Why,  they  couldn't  help  him.  They  tried,  yester 
day,  to  borrow  from  mom-a Wait."  The  last 

word  came  softly.  The  Gilmores  and  the  mate  drew 
near  to  see  the  Antelope  overtaken.  There  she  loomed, 
out  on  the  starboard  bow,  shrouded  in  the  swirling 
rain.  How  unlike  the  earlier  passing,  down  below 
Natchez!  No  touching  of  guards,  no  hail  by  sign  or 
sound.  "Like  ladies  under  two  umbrell's!"  laughed 
Ramsey  to  the  actor's  wife. 

Now  squarely  abreast,  stem  and  stem,  wheel  and 
wheel,  the  two  crafts  seemed  to  stand  motionless  with 
the  tempest  rushing  aft  between  them.  Then  fathom 
after  fathom  the  Antelope  fell  behind,  the  mate  and 
the  Gilmores  moved  away,  Ramsey  softly  bade  Hugh 
"go  on,"  and  his  first  utterance  drew  her  liveliest 
look. 

254 


CAPTAIN'S  ROOM 

"There's  another  thing  makes  your  brothers  wild/' 
he  said,  "which  they're  not  to  blame  for." 

"What's  that?" 

"Our  starving  plantation  life,"  said  Hugh,  speaking 
low. 

"Why,  they  call  it  the  only  life  for  a  gentleman!" 

"That's  because  they're  so  starved,  so  marooned." 

"It's  so  tasteless  without  high  seasoning,  Basile 
says,"  said  Ramsey.  She  meditated.  "Basile  loves 
to  eat." 

Said  Hugh,  "It's  a  life  I  don't  want  you  to  live," 
and  for  an  age  of  seconds  they  looked  into  each 
other's  eyes. 

Then  Ramsey — not  drooping  a  lash — "I  love  the 
river." 

"For  keeps?" 

She  nodded,  and  still  they  looked.  At  length  said 
Hugh: 

"I  tried  hard  to  make  friends  with  the  twins, 
but-  -" 

"They  wouldn't.  I  know.  Mr.  Watson  told  Mrs. 
Gilmore." 

"Yet  a  while  ago,  on  the  strength  of  it,  they  sent 
for  me,  to  ask  me  to  ask  my  father  to  indorse  their 
note." 

Ramsey  gasped:  "You  declined,  of  course?" 

"Yes,  but  I  told  those  other  two  passengers  if  they 
cast  another  card  with  any  of  your  brothers  they'd  go 
ashore,  themselves,  as  quick  as  the  boat  could  land." 

Ramsey  turned  and  gazed  out  on  the  subsiding 
255 


CAPTAIN'S  ROOM 

Side  by  side  they  also  were  gazing  out  and  speaking 
low.  "I'd  like  to  know  why  with  them." 

"And  I  must  tell  you." 

She  faintly  tossed,  gazing  out  again:  "Why  'must'?  " 

"Because  to  you  I  can — tell  things." 

"Haven't  you  told  your  father  yet — about — 
Phyllis?  Humph! — had  to  practise  on  me  first." 

"Yes.  But  there's  a  better  reason— for  everything 
I've  ever  told  you." 

She  slowly  faced  him,  and  he  added:  "I  want  your 
help." 

"For  what?    Not  the  Gilmores?" 

"Yes,  for  them  too  now.     They're  in  real  danger." 

"Fr'— from  what?     Not— not  from— my  brothers?" 

"The  twins,  yes,  and  the  general,  John  the  Baptist, 
and  a  dozen  more.  They've  guessed  it  out  that  the 
Gilmores " 

"Are—     So  have  I!     A,  b,  ab " 

Hugh  was  mute.  She  glanced  round  at  the  players' 
backs  and  then  again  at  him,  asking  with  soft  abrupt 
ness: 

"Where's  the  bishop?    With  mom-a  yet?" 

Hugh  kept  silence.  "No,  you  know  he's  not,"  she 
answered  for  him.  In  her  steady  eyes  he  could  see, 
growing  every  moment,  a  new  sense  of  the  fearful 
plight  of  things  and  of  her  relation  to  them.  Her 
young  bosom  rose  and  fell,  and  when  her  lips  parted 
to  speak  again  their  corners  twitched.  "He — he's 
the  new  case!  I  will  mention  it!  I've  a  good  right. 
Why  shouldn't  I?" 

257 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"  Only  that  he  didn't  want  you  to  know.  He  wanted 
you — us — all,  without  knowing,  to  go  right  on  with 
the  programme.  We  must.  Even  now  you  will,  won't 
you?" 

She  could  only  nod.  Just  then  Mrs.  Gilmore's  maid, 
in  a  long  burnoose,  with  umbrellas  and  wraps,  rose  into 
sight  close  below,  on  a  stair  from  the  passenger-guards, 
spread  one  of  her  umbrellas  and  looked  eagerly  about 
for  her  mistress.  One  glance  went  up  to  Ramsey,  who 
beckoned  through  the  glass,  but  the  maid  gave  no  sign 
of  seeing  her.  The  slight  rain  had  momentarily  fresh 
ened,  and  she  was  so  muffled  to  the  eyes  in  the  light 
veil  which  was  always  on  her  head  or  shoulders  in 
pretty  Spanish  fashion  that  when  she  started  forward 
round  the  skylights  for  the  other  side  of  the  roof  Ram 
sey  laughed  to  Hugh: 

"Why,  I  know  it's  Harriet  by  her  veil,  don't  you?" 

"I  know  only  the  veil.    I  saw  it  come  aboard." 

"The  veil  of  mystery!"  she  playfully  murmured, 
began  to  hum  a  tune  and  bit  her  lip  on  noticing  that 
it  was  "Gideon's  Band."  "Don't  you  think  I  might 
omit  that  to-night?" 

"No,  it's  the  best  thing  you  do." 

"Humph! — mighty  poor  reason — Aha!  I  knew  it 
was  Harriet." 

The  Gilmores  were  beckoning  out  their  window. 
The  actor  opened  the  door  on  that  side  and  the  maid 
came  warily  in.  Briefly  and  in  hurried  apology  under 
her  breath  while  dealing  out  her  burdens  she  told  of 
the  impatience  of  those  below  to  resume  the  rehearsal 

258 


"  Stop!  .   .   .  Stop!  the  safest  place  for  you  on  this  boat  now 
is  right  where  you  are  standing — Phyllis  " 


CAPTAIN'S  ROOM 

and  of  their  having  driven  her  to  this  errand  the  mo 
ment  they  could.  Mrs.  Gilmore  handed  Hugh  a  shawl 
for  Ramsey  and  an  umbrella  for  himself,  her  husband 
laid  a  mantle  on  her  shoulders,  and  the  maid  reopened 
the  door  he  had  shut;  but  Hugh  called  from  the  one 
opposite  that  it  was  the  better  way  and  the  players 
started  for  it.  The  younger  pair  gave  them  precedence, 
a  breeze  swept  through,  the  maid  reshut  her  door, 
Hugh,  holding  his,  bade  her  follow  her  mistress,  she 
sprang  to  obey  and  the  "veil  of  mystery,"  which 
caught  in  the  closed  door,  was  stripped  from  her  like  a 
sail  from  a  wreck. 

Instantly  she  crouched  and  with  the  swiftness  of  a 
wild  creature  flashed  round  and  snatched  open  the  door 
by  which  she  had  entered;  but  a  form  pressed  between 
her  and  the  opening  and  when  she  threw  up  her  face 
she  was  looking  close  into  the  astounded  eyes  of  Hugh 
Courteney.  Her  frame  recoiled  but  not  her  eyes;  his 
own  held  them.  Without  turning  he  shut  the  door  at 
his  back  as  Ramsey  closed  the  one  opposite,  and  still 
holding  the  maid  servant's  gaze,  he  followed  her  slow 
retreat,  and  in  that  droll  depth  of  voice  which  earlier 
had  been  Ramsey's  keenest  amusement  said  to  the 
eyes  so  near  his  own: 

"Stop!  .  .  .  Stop!  the  safest  place  for  you  on  this 
boat  now  is  right  where  you  are  standing — Phyllis." 


259 


XXXVII 
BASILS  USES  A  CANE 

THERE  was  a  gorgeous  sunset  that  day.  Many 
were  on  the  uppermost  decks  to  see  or  show  it,  amid  a 
lively  social  confusion  dull  to  Hugh  but  delightful  to 
Ramsey.  In  fact,  Hugh  had  begun  to  want  her  and 
the  hurricane-deck  to  himself. 

The  actor  and  his  wife  were  there.  And  there,  in 
different  to  sunsets  but  as  hungry  as  ever  for  company, 
was  Basile.  Dinner,  at  midday,  had  dissolved  the 
group  which  the  twins  had  for  a  time  held  together. 
The  captain  had  squared  Basile  with  the  ticket  treas 
urer  and  by  some  adroitness  of  Ramsey  and  Mrs. 
Gilmore  the  restless  boy  had  been  won  from  his  brothers 
and  given  a  hand  at  euchre  with  the  actor,  the  senator, 
and  a  picturesque  Kentuckian,  late  of  California, 
"back  East"  by  way  of  the  Isthmus  and  about  to  re 
turn  by  the  Plains. 

Another  of  this  hurricane-roof  assemblage  was  a 
young  gentleman  whom  Ramsey  told  Basile  it  was  not 
a  bit  nice  to  speak  of  as  Watson's  cub.  And  there 
were  all  the  amateur  players,  eager  for  the  evening's 
performance;  and  there,  too,  the  senator,  the  general, 
John  the  Baptist,  and  others  with  whom  Ramsey  had 
not  made  better  acquaintance  only  for  lack  of  mo- 

260 


BASILS  USES  A  CANE 

ments!  One  of  these  was  the  Calif ornian.  Think  of 
it!  A  man  whose  shirt-pin  was  a  gold  nugget  of  his 
own  digging,  yet  a  man  so  modest  as  to  play  euchre 
with  Basile,  and  who  stood  thus  far  utterly  uncate- 
chised  save  by  John  the  Baptist.  Oh,  time,  time!  A 
history  of  this  voyage  must  and  should  be  written  with 
large  room  given  to  these  last  ten  hours:  "Chronicles 
of  a  Busy  Life,"  by  "A  Young  Lady  of  Natchez." 

Captain  Courteney  stood  near  the  bell.  Watson  was 
up  at  the  wheel.  His  cub — whose  attentions  to  Basile, 
like  the  Californian's,  only  Ramsey  could  not  fathom 
— told  her  this  was  the  second  dog-watch.  He  was  tell 
ing  her  everything  he  knew.  She  was  asking  him 
everything  he  knew  not.  Indeed,  among  all  there  was 
great  giving  and  getting  of  information  on  matters 
alow  and  aloft.  There  was,  too,  frequent  praise  of  the 
commodore,  the  doctor,  the  priest,  the  sisters  of  char 
ity,  Madame  Hayle — all  those  heroic  ones  on  the  im 
migrant  deck,  where  the  pestilence  was  making  awful 
headway.  But  there  was  so  perfect  a  silence  as  to  the 
bishop  that  it  was  manifest  that  every  one  knew  about 
him  but  was  too  discreet  to  tell. 

Matters  beyond  the  boat,  too,  far  and  near,  were 
much  discussed,  though  some  actually  saw  the  sunset 
they  were  all  there  to  see.  Nowhere  within  five  hun 
dred  miles  the  compass  round,  the  actor  said,  was  there 
a  town  of  ten  thousand  souls,  if  of  five  thousand.  No 
where  within  a  hundred  miles  was  there  a  town  popu 
lation  of  five  hundred.  Since  the  morning  thunder- 
shower  the  Votaress  had  come  ninety  miles,  yet  the 

261 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

great  Yazoo  Delta  was  still  ahead,  abeam,  astern,  on 
the  river's  Mississippi  side.  Some  one  told  two  or 
three,  who  told  four  or  five,  it  was  a  hundred  and 
seventy-five  miles  long  by  an  average  of  sixty  wide,  and 
covered  seven  thousand  square  miles.  From  zenith  to 
farthest  east  the  clouds  that  overhung  it  were  pink  and 
ashes-of-roses  in  a  sea  of  blue.  The  entire  west  was 
one  splendor  of  crimson  and  saffron,  scarlet  and  gold, 
with  intervals  of  black  and  green.  Even  the  turbid 
river  between  was  an  unbroken  rosy  glow.  The  vast 
wooded  swamps  over  on  that  shore  were  in  Arkansas. 
Louisiana  had  been  left  behind  in  that  vivid  moment 
when  Ramsey  and  Hugh  were  making  their  discovery 
of  "Harriet"  and  when  Hugh,  we  may  here  add,  was 
handing  back  her  "veil  of  mystery." 

"When  I  saw  you  do  that,"  Ramsey  had  later  said 
to  him,  "I  knew  she  was  safe — and  she  knew  she  was!" 
The  laughing  girFs  mind  was  brimful  yet  of  the  amaz 
ing  incident,  at  every  pause  in  her  talk,  which  was  now 
with  this  one,  now  with  that,  and  often  with  the  cub. 

It  was  interesting  to  note  the  masterful-careless  air 
with  which  Watson's  apprentice  more  than  once  en 
deavored  to  make  it  clear  to  Hugh,  concerning  this 
daughter  of  Gideon,  that,  whereas  the  mud  clerk,  at 
his  desk  below,  was  utterly  love-bemired,  his,  the  cub's, 
liking  for  her  was  solely  for  her  countless  questions,  of 
which  he  said  that  "you  never  could  tell  where  the 
next  one  would  hit."  No  singed  moth  he!  To  prove 
it  he  offered  Hugh  a  very  blase  query :  "  What  do  women 
ever  do  with  all  the  answers  we  men  give  'em,  hey?" 

262 


BASILE  USES  A  CANE 

Hugh  could  not  tell  him.  Yet  to  Hugh  the  riddle 
was  at  least  as  old  as  his  acquaintance  with  Ramsey. 
He  pondered  it  as  he  and  Mrs.  Gilmore  conversed  in 
undertone  while  gazing  on  the  wonderful  changes  of  the 
sky,  and  while  Ramsey,  near  by,  visibly  studied  the 
exhorter,  whom  she  was  cross-examining  together  with 
the  actor  on  the  lore  of  the  river  as  they  had  known  it 
in  the  days  before  steam.  For  she  had  actually  got 
those  two  antipodes  face  to  face  again  in  a  sort  of 
truce-rampant  like  that  of  the  lion  and  the  unicorn  on 
the  Votaress's  very  thick  plates  and  massive  coffee- 
cups.  She  was  not  like  most  girls,  Hugh  thought. 
While  their  interrogations  were  generally  for  the  en 
tertainment,  not  to  say  flattery,  of  their  masculine 
informants,  hers  were  the  outreachings  of  an  eager 
mind  free  from  self-concern  and  athirst  for  knowledge 
to  be  stored,  honey-like,  for  future  use.  Some  women 
have  butterfly  minds,  that  merely  drink  the  social 
garden's  nectar.  Others  are  more  like  bees.  The 
busy  bee  Ramsey,  Hugh  felt  assured,  was  by  every  in 
stinct  a  honey  gatherer. 

But  who,  at  a  single  cast,  ever  netted  the  whole 
truth  as  to  any  one?  Even  while  he  so  mused — at 
the  same  time  doing  his  best  to  give  Mrs.  Gilmore 
his  whole  attention — Ramsey,  with  her  back  turned 
yet  vividly  aware  of  him,  willing — preferring — that  he 
should  hear  alone  from  that  lady  what  she  would  later 
draw  from  him,  and  ardently  mindful  of  his  word  that 
he  "wanted  her  help,"  was  not  merely  gathering  facts 
regarding  her  beloved  river  but  was  also  deep  in  diplo- 

263 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

macy,  endeavoring  with  all  her  youthful  arts,  such  as 
they  were,  to  help  him. 

Her  manoeuvres  were  fairly  good.  To  her  it  seemed 
as  though  this  spirit  of  strife  so  electrically  pervading 
the  Votaress  might  yet  be  tranquillized  through  a  war 
of  wits  exclusively  and  she  was  using  her  own  with  the 
tactical  nimbleness  of  the  feminine  mind.  She  knew 
the  twins  were  down  on  the  boiler  deck  again,  one 
faint,  yet  both  pursuing,  egged  on  by  him  of  the  stal 
lion's  eye  and  him  of  the  eagle's,  and  all  the  more 
socially  and  dangerously  active  because,  by  strict  or 
ders  to  every  one,  cut  off  from  the  gaming-table  and 
the  bar.  She  could  not  do  a  hundred  things  at  once — 
though  she  could  do  six  or  seven — and  it  was  well  to 
grapple  this  one  task  first.  Thus  she  kept  Hugh  free 
to  confer  with  the  player's  wife  as  to  "Harriet." 

Her  husband,  the  wife  told  Hugh,  had  drawn  "Har 
riet  "  from  the  water  just  as  Dan  Hayle  sank,  and  hus 
band  and  wife  had  concealed  her  on  their  flatboat, 
unable  to  resist  her  wild  appeal  not  to  be  given  back 
into  slavery. 

"We  didn't  dream  she'd  done  anything  wrong; 
she  didn't  tell  us  that  for  years.  Players,  Mr.  Hugh, 
don't  meddle  much  in  politics  and  we'd  never  thought 
whether  we  were  for  slavery  or  against  it  until  there  was 
the  whole  awful  question  sprung  on  us  in  an  instant." 

"So  you  took  her ?" 

"For  my  maid,  yes — on  wages,  of  course — down  to 
New  Orleans — we  were  bound  there — and  kept  her 
when  we  went  North  and  ever  since." 

264 


BASILS  USES  A  CANE 

"And  she's  always  been ?" 

"Well-behaved,  faithful,  kind,  ana  wise.  That  one 
terrible  deed,  which  she  says  you  know  all  about— 

"I  do." 

"It  seemed  to  change  the  very  foundations  of  her 
character,  to  convert  her  soul." 

"Yes,"  said  Hugh,  as  if  speaking  from  experience. 

"Yet  she  kept  her  high  spirit.  She  would  never  put 
on  a  disguise.  And  really  that  was  safest  since  she 
wasn't  being  looked  for  by  any  one.  'I'm  no  ad 
vertised  runaway,'  she  said.  Still  she's  never  been 
foolhardy.  She'd  never  have  come — we'd  never  have 
brought  her — aboard  this  boat  could  we  have  foreseen 
the  mishap  to  her  captain  which  decided  you  and  your 
father  and  grandfather  to  come  on  her.'' 

So  ran  the  story  hurriedly,  but  before  it  had  got  thus 
far  Hugh's  attention,  in  spite  of  him,  was  divided.  It 
was  wise,  we  have  implied,  for  Ramsey  to  take  the 
exhorter  while  he  was  in  a  manageable  humor.  He  had 
come  to  the  roof  with  an  improved  regard,  got  by  his 
fall  in  the  cabin,  for  the  "  Tiscopalian  play-actoh," 
and  with  brute  shrewdness  was  glad  to  make  an  out 
ward  show  of  good-will  to  Gilmore,  and  accepted  with 
avidity  every  pretty  advance  of  Gid  Hayle's  "boda 
cious  brick-top  gal."  Hugh  could  hear  him  answering 
Ramsey's  inquiries  regarding  various  pieces  of  river 
seen  or  unseen  during  the  day. 

"Spanish-moss  Ben'?  Why,  they  calls  it  that  by 
reason  'at  when  we-all  used  to  come  down  the  riveh  in 
flatboats,  that's  whah  we  al'ays  fus'  see  the  moss  a- 

265 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

swingin'  f  om  the  trees.  Yass,  sawt  o'  like  scalps  f'om 
wigwam  poles.  An'  that  ho'pe  us  to  know  whah'- 
bouts  we  'uz  at.  We  knowed  we  'uz  at  Spanish-moss 
Ben'.  Didn'  we,  Mr.  play-actoh?" 

The  actor  would  have  said  yes,  but  the  fountain  of 
information  flowed  straight  on:  "Yass,  same  as  at 
Islan'  Ten — aw  Twenty — aw  any  numbeh,  we  knowed 
by  count  we  'uz  that  many  islan's  f'om  whah  the  Ohio 
comes  in.  Ef  that  wah  the  tenth  islan'  we'd  seed  then 
we  knowed  that  'uz  Islan'  Ten  aw  whaheveh  it  wah, 
whetheh  it  wah  a'  islan'  yit  aw  b'en  j'inded  on  to 
the  main  sho'  sence  it  got  its  numbeh." 

They  were  rounding  Cypress  Bend  and  Ramsey  had 
asked  another  question.  "Was  this  where  you  first 
used  to  see  cypress  woods?" 

"Thundeh,  no!  This  gits  h-its  name  by  reason  'at 
they  steals  mo'  millions  o'  dollahs  wuth  o'  cyp'ess 
timbeh  f'om  the  gove'ment  out'n  this  ben'  than  any 
otheh  on  the  whole  Fatheh  o'  Watehs,  es  the  In j ins 
say.  You  know  that,  Mr.  play-actoh.  Lawd!  all  the 
places  ain't  name'  alike.  'Way  back  down  yondeh 
whah  we  met  the  Troubado'  this  mawnin' " 

"Oh!"  moaned  Ramsey,  "another  o'  pop-a's  boats!" 

"Yass,  whilst  you-all  'uz  a-temptin'  Provi-dence 
a-practisin'  of  a  play !  Down  yondeh  by  Islan'  Ninety, 
Seary's  Islan' — which  it  ain't  be'n  a  raal  islan'  these 
fawty  year' — you  'membeh,  Mr.  play-actoh,  that  ole 
san'-bah  jess  below  it,  full  o'  snags  as  my  granny's 
mouth,  which  befo'  the  earthquake  it  used  to  be  a 
reg-lah  death-trap  fo'  flatboats?  Well,  you  know  h-it 

266 


BASILS  USES  A  CANE 

didn'  git  its  name  by  reason  'at  anybody  fo'  the  fust 
time  see  than  Gen'al  Hull's  Lef  Leg!  No;  an'  likewise 
away  up  yondeh  pas'  the  Tennessee  line,  at  Islan' 
Thutty-eight,  whah  the  current's  so  full  o'  biles  an' 
swells  an'  snags  an'  sawyehs  'at  they  calls  it  the  Devil's 
Elbow!  Now,  nobody  ain't  neveh  sho'  'nough  see' 
the  devil's  identical  elbow — in  this  life.  No,  suh, 
you'd  ought  to  know  that  ef  anybody.  Oh,  no,  Devil's 
Elbow,  Presi'dent's  Islan',  Paddy's  Hen  an'  Chickens, 
Devil's  Race-groun',  Devil's  Bake-ov'm,  they  jess 
sahcaystic  names."  He  turned  to  Watson's  cub,  who 
with  Basile  had  joined  the  trio,  and  was  watching  to 
get  in  a  word.  "You  know  that." 

The  boy  assented.  "But  did  you  see,"  he  asked 
Ramsey,  "the  swarms  of  birds  down  around  Island 
Eighty-eight?" 

"No!"  interposed  the  exhorter,  "she  wah  still  a- 
temptin'  Provi-dence  in  like  manneh  as  afo'said!" 

Basile  flashed  resentment.  "To  put  it  politely,"  he 
retorted.  But  the  actor  and  Ramsey  laughed. 

"Oh,  John  the  Babtis'  wouldn't  'a'  putt  it  no  po 
liter.  I  see'  the  birds.  We  'uz  a  meetin'  the  Southern 
Cross " 

"Anoth' — !"  Ramsey  began  to  wail. 

"Anotheh  o'  Gid  Hayle's  boats,  yass,  an'  mighty 
nigh  his  bes'.  Round'n'  the  foot  o'  the  islan'  our  whis 
tle  bellered  howdy  to  her  an'  we  riz  one  solid  squah 
mile  o'  wings;  an'  when  she  bellered  back,  a-round'n' 
its  head,  she  riz  anotheh.  Yit  them  birds  wa'n't  a 
pinch  naw  a  patchin'  to  what  I  hev  see'  thah;  mill- 

267 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

ions  an'  millions  an'  millions  uv  millions  o'  swan, 
pelikin,  san'-hill  crane,  geese " 

"Birds  of  paradise?"  asked  Brick-top. 

"They  'uz  all  birds  o'  paradise!  the  whole  kit  an' 
bilin'!  by  reason  'at  this  wah.a,  paradise  them  days, 
this-yeh  whole  'Azoo  Delta,  which  you,  suh" — the 
speaker  turned  to  Gilmore  with  reviving  spleen.  By 
opposite  stairs,  larboard  and  starboard,  the  twins, 
each  carrying  a  sword-cane,  as  Hugh  saw  by  the  double 
gold  band  around  it  a  finger-length  from  the  top,  had 
just  reached  the  roof,  and  the  emboldened  orator 
began  to  make  it  plain  that  despite  his  "bodacious" 
criticism  of  their  sister,  overheard  by  Julian,  he  had 
at  least  half  righted  himself  with  both  brothers  and 
was  on  their  side  in  whatever  was  now  afoot. 

"Which  you,  suh,"  he  repeated,  "hev  tuck  on  yo- 
seff  to  drap  hints  'at  it  ain't  a  civilize'  country! — 
by  reason  'at  it  ain't  cityfied!  Like  Paris,  I  s'pose, 
my  Gawd! — with  thah  high-heel'  shoes  an'  low-neck' 
dresses!" 

His  voice  rose  as  the  twins,  Mrs.  Gilmore,  and  Hugh 
came  close.  "Aw  Babylon  with  thah  jeweldry! — rings 
on  thah  fingehs  an'  bells  on  thah  toes!  Aw  Sodom  an' 
Gomorrah! — with  thah  staht-neckid  statutes!  Well, 
thaynk  the  Lawd,  yo're  plumb  right,  we  ain't !  Thaynk 
Gawd  we  air  a  'new-bawn  civilization' — as  says  you 
when  you  didn'  suspicion  I  wah  a-listenin'  " — he  fell 
into  a  mincing  mimicry — "'a  new-bawn  civilization 
with  all  the  chahm  an'  all  the  pity  o'  new-bawn  things,' 
says  you  to  yo'  wife — ef  she  air  yo'  wife." 

268 


BASILS  USES  A  CANE 

The  shock  of  the  insult  ran  through  the  group  and 
out  to  a  dozen  hearers  beyond;  to  the  captain  and  a 
knot  of  young  people  courting  his  conversation;  to 
Watson,  high  above;  to  the  stallion-eyed  man  and  the 
eagle-eyed,  who  both  had  come  up  with  the  twins 
and  were  adhering  to  the  senator  the  general,  and  the 
Kentuckian  from  California. 

Gilmore  paled  with  anger.  Ramsey's  merriment, 
which  had  begun  at  the  beginning,  ceased  for  a  breath 
and  then,  to  the  loathing  of  the  twins,  came  on  worse 
as  she  found  herself  very  erect  in  one  of  Mrs.  Gilmore's 
gentle  arms.  The  eyes  of  both  the  wife  and  the  girl 
were  on  the  actor  and  their  every  nerve  was  unstrung. 
Beseechingly  he  waved  them  away. 

"Come,"   the  wife  said,   though  without  moving, 


"come  on." 


"Oh,  not  a  step!"  laughed  Ramsey.  "They— they 
need  us!  We  must  help!"  She  had  turned  her  frank 
gaze  to  Hugh  in  mingled  wonder,  exultancy,  and  dis 
tress.  It  seemed  a  dream  that  he  should  be  the  dull 
boy  of  yesterday.  He  was  speaking  to  the  exhorter 
and  appeared  not  to  have  her  in  sight  or  mind,  although, 
in  fact,  her  untimely  levity  ran  him  through  like  a  dart. 
His  absurdly  deep  voice  was  rich  with  a  note  not  of 
mere  forbearance  but  of  veritable  comradery,  yet  his 
eyes,  as  they  held  the  offender's,  were  as  big  and 
dangerous  as  she  had  ever  seen  her  mighty  father's  and 
she  laughed  on  for  what  laughter  might  be  worth,  the 
only  help  she  could  furnish. 

"Not  that  you  mean  the  slightest  offence,"  he 
prompted. 

269 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

The  exhorter  stiffened  up.  The  nearer  few  packed 
close.  Slender  Basile  was  just  at  Hugh's  left  between 
him  and  the  twins.  The  exhorter  opened  his  mouth 
to  reply  but  the  words  hung  in  his  throat.  To  help 
them  out  he  gave  his  head  a  disputative  tilt,  but  Ba- 
sile's  hysterical  treble  broke  in: 

"Say  no!    You  slang-whanging  lick-skillet,  say  no!" 

The  man  gasped.  The  boy  whirled  to  his  convales 
cent  brother.  "Give  me  that  cane!"  He  snatched 
it,  whipped  out  its  keen  stiletto,  and  with  all  his  light 
force  smote  the  empty  staff,  left-handed,  across  the 
exhorter Js  cheek  and  ear,  yelping:  "Say  no!  Say  it!" 

"No!"  said  the  victim,  but  the  word  was  equivocal 
and  the  boy  beside  himself.  For  Hugh  had  wrenched 
the  staff  from  him  and  was  holding  the  hand  that 
gripped  the  stiletto,  while  the  lad,  with  streaming 
tears,  plunged,  whined  and  gnashed  at  the  back 
woodsman. 

"Let  me  go!"  he  begged.  "I  see  their  game!  Let 
me  kill  their  insulter  of  ladies!" 

The  game  was  not  hard  to  see.  At  a  better  moment 
than  this  blunderer  had  chosen,  some  one  was  to  pro 
voke  the  actor  to  an  assault  which  the  twins  would 
make  their  pretext  for  a  combined  attack  on  that 
political  "suspect"  and  common  pest,  using  the  canes 
as  canes  until  Hugh  should  be  drawn  into  the  fray, 
when  the  canes  would  become  swords,  dirks,  the  actor 
a  secondary  consideration,  and  the  game — interesting. 
Hugh  saw  it  but  saw  it  with  even  less  sense  of  peril 
than  Ramsey,  who  stood  her  ground  nervously  cling- 

270 


BASILE  USES  A  CANE 

ing  to  her  chaperon,  yet  flashing  and  tinkling  with  a 
mirth  as  of  some  reckless  sport;  a  mirth  mildly  reflected 
by  her  companion  and  which,  for  Hugh,  suddenly  shed 
a  ludicrous  light  on  every  one:  on  himself  and  Basile; 
on  the  pallid  Lucian  as  he  peevishly,  vainly,  ordered 
Ramsey  off  the  scene;  on  Julian  as  he  posed  in  a  tragical 
disdain  more  theatrical  than  the  actor's — who  also  saw 
the  game;  on  the  captain's  dumfounded  young  folk; 
on  the  senator,  the  general,  and  the  Californian,  stand 
ing  agaze,  and  on  the  two  men  with  them,  whose  extra 
—eagle-eyed,  stallion-eyed — solicitude  told  him  they 
were  the  lenders  of  the  canes.  All  at  once,  still  holding 
the  anguished  Basile,  he  saw,  and  observed  that  the 
actor  saw,  the  heaped-up  nonsense  of  the  affair.  Ram 
sey's  mood  leaped  to  both  of  them  like  a  flame,  and 
they  laughed  together  while  Hugh  exhorted  the  ex- 
horter:  "Go  below!  For  your  life,  go!" 

The  man  cast  a  pleading  look  on  the  twins,  but  when 
Lucian  granted  him  only  a  withering  smile,  and  Julian 
with  his  cane  in  his  folded  arms  said  majestically,  "  Go, 
you  hopeless  ass,"  he  went — with  haste. 

Out  of  the  group  by  the  bell  John  Courteney,  ap 
parently  as  unmoved  as  if  all  this  were  but  common 
routine,  answered  Watson's  silent  look  with  his  own 
while  the  pilot,  taking  his  ear  from  a  speaking-tube, 
grasped  the  bell-rope. 

"Wood?"  asked  the  captain. 


271 


XXXVIII 
THE  CANE  AGAIN 

"PARTLY,  sir." 

All  marked  the  qualifying  word  though  at  the  same 
time  all  witnessed  the  cross-fire  of  challenge  and  retort 
that  flashed  between  the  three  brothers.  Basile  had 
dropped  his  weapon  and  ceased  to  struggle,  yet  still 
showed  a  mental  torture,  the  same  he  had  betrayed  at 
the  previous  afternoon's  worship,  and  in  all  hearts, 
even  those  of  the  senator's  group,  it  brought  back  for 
him  the  same  tender  indulgence  as  before.  Meanwhile 
Ramsey  and  the  cub  pilot  had  caught  up  the  cane's 
two  parts  and  laid  them  in  the  hands  of  the  actor,  who 
quietly  resheathed  them  while  Basile  mocked  the  twins. 
"So  that's  the  way  Hayles,"  jeered  the  lad,  "stand 
by  a  cat's-paw  friend,  is  it?" 

"Hayles,"  said  Julian,  "never  settle  difficulties  be 
fore  ladies." 

The  boy  resisted  again  as  his  laughing  sister  half 
knelt  to  lay  her  arms  about  him  soothingly.  "Oh, 
these  ladies  won't  mind,"  he  tearfully  sneered.  "  Come 
on !  Here's  your  man,  with  the  steel,  and  three  behind 
each  of  you  to  see  fair  play!"  A  wave  of  the  hand  in 
dicated  Lucian  and  the  canes'  owners  on  one  side,  and 

272 


THE  CANE  AGAIN 

himself,  the  cub  pilot,  and  Hugh  on  the  other.  The 
latter  and  the  players,  momentarily  together,  gave  sud 
den  attention,  but  again  the  humor  of  the  situation 
saved  it.  The  laugh  was  general;  the  young  people 
about  the  captain,  whom  his  equanimity  and  Ramsey's 
and  Mrs.  Gilmore's  stay  had  emboldened  to  linger, 
drew  near;  and  the  three  groups  became  one. 

The  twins  themselves  might  have  made  fair  actors, 
though  no  one  ever  had  dared  suggest  it.  Julian 
scowled  on  Gilmore  and  Hugh  and  half  drew  the  other 
cane  from  his  folded  arms,  but  then  looked  distantly 
away,  while  Lucian  with  an  indolent  air  said  to  the 
younger  brother: 

"Babe!    Hayles  never  line  up  on  two  sides." 

To  retort,  the  lad  had  to  snatch  Ramsey's  fingers 
from  his  lips  and  so  lost  his  chance,  while  under  her 
breath  she  futilely  implored  him  to  desist. 

"I'm  not!"  he  wailed  back  at  her.  "I'm  not  ri 
diculous!  You!  you'll  find  judgment-day  ridiculous, 
I  don't  doubt — oh,  good  Lordy!  stop  your  eternal 
titter." 

The  great  bell  thundered  and  he  recoiled.  "There! 
wood!  'wood,  partly.'  And  partly  what  else?  d'you 
know?  Another  funeral."  In  spite  of  her  fond  re 
straints  he  cried  out  to  the  company:  "With  more  to 
follow!  The  bishop " 

But  the  sister's  fingers  were  on  his  lips  once  more 
and  while  she  half  whispered,  half  laughed  her  tender 
chidings  old  Joy  appeared,  coming  from  the  bishop's 
bedside.  Ramsey  turned  a  beseeching  look  to  Hugh 

273 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

but  the  general  had  halted  the  nurse  with  a  private 
question  and  now  proclaimed: 

"Th-the  bishop's  doing  as  welPs  could  be  exxx- 
pected." 

"Expected!"  cried  Basile,  "yes,  when  he's  expected 
to  die.  And  then  it'll  be  my  turn." 

"  It  won't  1 "  exclaimed  Ramsey.  "  It  sha'n't  I "  The 
boat  was  rounding  to  at  a  wood-yard  and  most  of  the 
company  were  glad  to  turn  away  to  the  shoreward 
scene.  The  boy  dropped  his  head  on  the  black  wom 
an's  shoulder. 

"Oh,  mammy,  if  I  was  the  bishop,  or  you,  or  even 
Ramsey,  I  wouldn't  mind,  for  I  could  be  ready  to  go. 
Oh,  God!  why  can't  I  get  religion?" 

"  Why,  'caze  you  done  got  it,  sugah  boy.  You  done 
got  religion  'istiddy."  Only  the  twins  smiled.  The 
captain  stepped  down  to  the  roof's  forward  edge  as 
the  boat  neared  shore. 

"And  you're  not  going  to  get  anything  else,"  said 
Ramsey,  snatching  the  lad's  hands  and  finding  them 
cold. 

He  moaned  in  unbelief:  "What  do  you  know  about 
it?  Oh,  sis',  if  I  could  only  die  doing  some  fine  thing! 
— in  a  fight! — or  an  explosion! — anything  but  a  death 
bed!" 

"Law'!  honey,"  interposed  old  Joy,  "what  you  want 
to  do  fine  things  faw?  You's  done  got  religion.  You 
on'y  ain't  got  peace.  Come  to  de  bishop.  Gawd  won't 
let  a  religious  enquireh  kitch  noth'n'.  I  'uz  tellin' 
de  bishop  'bout  missy  an'  you,  bofe  gitt'n'  religion 

274 


THE  CANE  AGAIN 

'istiddy,  an'  he  say,  s'e:  'Go,  fetch  yo'  young  missy; 
fetch  bofe.'  " 

"We'll  go!"  said  Ramsey  before  the  willing  boy 
could  reply,  though  from  every  side  came  protests. 

For  once  Hugh  and  the  twins  were  in  accord.  "You 
must  not ! "  called  Hugh.  "  You  shall  not ! "  said  Julian. 

She  glanced  from  one  to  the  other,  tinkling  her  pret 
tiest,  and  suddenly  flushed.  "  We  will!" 

The  twins  sent  Hugh  a  hot  look  which  he  paid  back 
with  a  cold  one,  while  Mrs.  Gilmore  said: 

"I'll  have  to  go  with  you,  Ramsey." 

For  one  breath  the  girl  was  taken  aback,  but  then: 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "to  the  door,  that's  all." 

As  they  turned  after  Basile  and  Joy  she  added: 
'  'Twas  I,  you  know,  that  got  the  bishop  sick  in  the 
first  place." 

At  the  corner  of  the  texas  they  glanced  back  but 
were  reassured  to  see  the  cub-pilot  disappearing  on  the 
nearest  boiler-deck  stair  at  the  outer,  depopulated  side 
of  the  boat,  the  actor  and  Hugh  moving  toward  it,  and 
the  twins  holding  the  field  and  scowling  after  their  op 
ponents.  Nevertheless,  the  moment  the  sister  and  wife 
passed  from  view  Julian  sturdily,  Lucian  feebly,  pressed 
after  Hugh  and  the  player.  The  last  witness  was  gone; 
now  was  their  time. 

"Mr.  Courteney,"  said  Julian.  The  other  two  looked 
back  and  paused. 

Lucian  spoke:  "Mr.  Gilmore,  you  have  my  cane, 
sir." 

The  player  smiled.    "Is  this  really  your  cane?" 
275 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

With  a  ripping  oath  Julian  put  in:  "What's  that  to 
you-,  you  damned  Gypsy?  Give  him  the  stick!" 

The  player  let  go  a  stage  laugh.  Hugh  took  a  step 
forward  with  a  grave  show  of  self-command  hardly 
justified.  "Mr.  Hayle,"  he  said,  "you  don't  want  to 
be  another  'hopeless  ass/  do  you?" 

"Gawd!"  Julian  rose  to  his  toes  and  lifted  and 
brought  down  his  cane.  But  it  never  reached  its  mark. 
One  stride  of  the  actor,  one  outflash  of  arm  and  staff, 
foiled  the  blow,  and  when  a  second  was  turned  on  him 
the  cane  flew  from  Julian's  hand  he  knew  not  how  and 
dropped  ten  feet  away. 

He  dared  not  leap  after  it  but  faced  the  skilled 
fencer,  blazing  defiance  though  fully  expectant  of  the 
unsheathed  dirk.  But  no  dirk  was  unsheathed.  Lu- 
cian,  forgetting  his  feebleness,  sprang  for  the  cane  and 
had  dropped  to  one  knee  to  snatch  it  up  when  Hugh 
set  foot  on  it. 

"No!"  said  Hugh.     The  convalescent  straightened 
up,  his  brow  dark  with  an  anguish  of  chagrin,  and 
before  he  could  find  speech  Hugh  was  adding:  "Wait. 
I'll  give  it  to  you." 
•  "Don't!"  cried  Gilmore.    "Keep  it!" 

"No,"  wearily  said  Hugh,  glaring  on  the  glaring 
twins,  "we're  all  belittled  enough  now."  He  caught  up 
the  cane,  drew  its  dagger,  snapped  it  in  half  on  the 
deck,  and  resheathed  the  stump.  Then  tossing  the 
point  into  the  river  he  said:  "Here,  Mr.  Gilmore, 
swap." 

With  an  actor's  relish  for  a  scene  the  actor  swapped, 

276 


THE  CANE  AGAIN 

and  the  convalescent  wept  with  rage  as  Hugh,  having 
treated  the  second  cane  like  the  first,  tendered  it  to 
him. 

"Don't  take  it!"  cried  his  brother;  "don't  touch  it!" 
And  then  to  Gilmore:  "Don't  you  hand  me  that  one, 
either!  Don't  you  dare!" 

Yet  thereupon  the  actor  dared,  saying:  "But  for — 
others — I'd  trounce  you  with  it  like  a  schoolmaster." 

The  words  were  half  drowned  by  Lucian,  who 
snatched  from  Hugh  the  cane  he  tendered,  answering 
the  less  crafty  Julian,  "Take  it,  you  fool!  take  any 
odds  they'll  give!"  and,  while  Julian  complied,  adding 
to  Hugh:  "Oh,  you'll  pay  for  this — along  with  the  rest 
of  it!" 

"You'll  pay  for  this  first!"  put  in  Julian,  "and  with 
your  lives — the  pair  of  you!" 

Hugh  and  Gilmore  merely  turned  again  toward  the 
stair,  but  a  voice  stopped  them  though  addressed  only 
to  the  twins. 

"Did  you  say  pair?"  it  inquired. 

The  boat  was  at  the  bank;  her  great  wheels  were 
still.  The  sun's  last  ray  tipped  the  oak-leaf  caps  of 
her  soaring  chimneys.  Once  more  from  the  cook-house 
rose  the  incense  of  coffee,  hot  rolls,  and  beefsteak,  and 
from  her  myriad  lamps  soft  yellow  gleams  fell  upon 
the  wind-rippled  water  and,  out  of  view  on  the  other 
side,  into  the  tops  of  the  dense  willows.  Over  there 
the  senator,  the  general,  and  the  company  that  had 
gone  with  them  looked  down  upon  two  movements  at 
once.  The  funeral  they  could  not  help  but  see;  the 

277 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

other  was  the  wooding-up.  The  mud  clerk  had  meas 
ured  the  corded  pile,  and  the  entire  crew,  falling  upon 
it  like  ants,  were  scurrying  back  and  forth,  outward 
empty-handed,  inward  shoulder-laden,  while  those  who 
stood  heaping  the  loads  on  them  sang  as  they  heaped: 

"Do  you  belong  to  de  Vot'ess'  ban'?" 

"You  don't  mean  just  the  pair,  do  you?"  repeated 
Watson.  He  looked  down  loungingly  from  a  side  win 
dow  of  the  pilot-house.  "There's  anyhow  five  on  our 
side,"  he  added.  "I'm  in  that  tea  party." 

Julian  had  caught  breath  to  retort,  when  from  a  new 
direction  a  beckon  checked  him  and  at  the  nearest 
corner  of  the  texas  he  beheld  again  Ramsey.  Mrs. 
Gilmore  was  not  with  her,  but  at  her  back  were  the 
nurse  and  Basile.  The  boy  wore  such  an  air  of  terror 
that  the  player  instantly  pressed  toward  him. 

Ramsey's  beckon,  however,  was  to  Hugh.  Her 
bright  smile  did  not  hide  her  mental  pain,  which  drew 
him  to  her  swiftly  despite  the  twins'  deepening  frown. 
The  two  brothers  heard  the  question  she  asked  him 
when  he  was  but  half-way;  perhaps  she  meant  they 
should.  "Can  you  call  through  Mr.  Watson's  speak 
ing-tube  to  mom-a — and  the  commodore?" 

"Certainly." 

"Tell  them" — tears  suddenly  belied  her  brightness 
— "to  come  up  to  the  bishop,  quick.  I'm  'fraid — 
afraid- 

A  word  or  two  more  Hugh  failed  to  hear,  but  even 
the  twins,  at  their  distance,  read  them  on  her  lips : 

278 


THE  CANE  AGAIN 

"The  bishop's  going  to  die." 

She  sprang  to  Gilmore.  His  arm  was  about  Basile; 
he  was  trying  his  pulse.  The  twins  would  have  fol 
lowed  but  in  between  came  senator — general — all  that 
company,  moved  by  physical  foreknowledge  of  an  in 
vitation  whose  drawing  power  outweighed  whatever 
else  land,  water,  sky,  or  man  could  offer.  Suddenly 
it  pealed  in  their  midst: 

"Ringading  tingalingaty,  ringadang  ding " 

The  captain  stayed  by  his  chair.  "Cast  off,"  he 
said  to  the  mate  beneath,  and  to  Watson  above: 
"Back  your  starboard." 

A  jingle  sounded  below.  The  steam  roared  from  one 
scape  and  widened  aloft  like  a  magic  white  tree — 
twice — thrice.  "Stop  her."  It  ceased.  She  swung. 
"Go  ahead  on  both."  Two  white  trees  shot  up  to 
gether  and  trembling  she  went.  Down  in  the  quivering 
cabin,  round  the  shining  board,  every  one's  spirit  rose 
with  the  rising  speed. 

"Senator,  'twas  I  sent  you  them  hot  rolls,  suh." 

"Why,  thank  you!  But — don't  disfurnish  your 
self." 

"General,  them  fried  bananas 

"Th-th-thank  you,  sir,  I  have  a  suff-fficient  plenty." 

Only  the  seats  of  the  Courteneys,  the  Gilmores,  Ram 
sey,  and  Basile  stood  vacant. 


279 


XXXIX 
FORTITUDE 

"COURAGE,"  the  slender  play  was  called.  It  is  to 
be  regretted  that  we  cannot  fully  set  it  forth,  for  Gil- 
more  was  himself  its  author. 

Also  because,  whatever  it  lacked,  there  was  in  it  a 
lucky  fitness  for  this  occasion,  since,  conditions  being 
what  they  were  on  the  decks  above  and  below,  the  one 
strong  apology  for  giving  it  was  the  need  of  upholding 
the  courage  of  its  audience. 

It  was  even  a  sort  of  kind  rejoinder  to  the  various 
ferments  kept  up  by  the  truculent  twins,  the  pusil 
lanimous  exhorter,  and  the  terrified  Basile.  Its  preach 
ment  might  well  have  been  less  obvious,  though  lines, 
its  author  bade  Hugh  notice,  never  overbalanced  ac 
tion,  never  came  till  situation  called  them.  It  was  to 
the  effect,  first,  that  courage  is  human  character's  prime 
essential,  without  which  no  Tightness  or  goodness  is 
stable  or  real;  and,  second,  that  as  no  virtue  of  char 
acter  can  be  relied  on  where  courage  is  poor,  so  neither 
can  courage  be  trusted  for  right  conduct  when  unmated 
to  other  virtues  of  character,  the  chiefest  being  fidel 
ity — fidelity  to  truth  and  right,  of  course,  since  fidelity 
to  evil  is  but  a  contradiction  of  terms.  "  From  courage 
and  fidelity,"  it  was  the  part  of  one  player  at  a  telling 

280 


FORTITUDE 

moment  to  say,  "springs  the  whole  arch  of  character," 
and  again,  "These  are  the  Adam  and  Eve  of  all  the 
virtues."  (Adam  and  Eve  were  decided  to  be  quite 
mentionable.  Mention  was  not  impersonation.) 

Naturally  the  Gilmores  knew  every  line  of  the  play. 

"As  perfectly,"  ventured  the  two  young  Napoleon- 
ites,  "  as  John  the  Baptist  knows  the  moral  law,  don't 
you?" 

"Better,  I  infer,"  said  Gilmore  abstractedly.  They 
were  in  the  ladies'  cabin,  awaiting  its  preparation  as  a 
stage,  behind  the  curtains  that  screened  it  from  the 
gentlemen's  cabin,  the  auditorium.  His  wife  smiled 
for  him. 

"Even  my  Harriet,"  she  said,  "knows  one  or  two 
parts.  She's  played  Miss  Ramsey's  in  emergencies." 

Her  half-dozen  feminine  hearers  flinched.  Yet  one 
said,  excusingly:  "That's  a  servant's  part,  anyhow." 

"And  Harriet's  her  very  size  and  shape,"  said  an 
other. 

And  another,  drolly:  "They're  enough  alike  to  be 
kin!" 

"Harriet's  free,  isn't  she?"  asked  the  first. 

"Yes,"  replied  Mrs.  Gilmore,  without  a  blush,  look 
ing  squarely  at  Hugh,  who  stood  among  them  silent. 

"You'd  never  notice  she  was  a  nigrah  if  you  wa'n't 
told,"  said  another,  "or  didn't  see  her  with  nigrahs." 

But  then  said  a  youth,  cousin  to  one  of  the  girls: 
"Yet  after  all  a  nigrah  she  is." 

"No  such  thing!"  said  his  cousin.  "After  all  that's 
what  she  isn't.  Our  own  laws  say  she  isn't." 

281 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Well,  I  say  she  is.  One  drop  of  nigrah  blood  makes 
a  nigrah — for  me,  law  or  no  law." 

"Well,  that's  monstrous — for  me." 

"Yes,  your  politics  being  what  they  are." 

"My  pol' — I'm  as  good  a  Southerner  as  you,  any 
day!" 

"All  right,  but  I  shan't  play  if  that  born  servant  is 
allowed  to  take  any  but  a  servant's  part." 

To  Hugh  a  crisis  seemed  to  impend,  but  he  held  off 
for  the  Gilmores,  who  seemed  to  be  used  to  crises. 

They  had  not  thought  of  Harriet,  they  said,  for  any 
part  but  Miss  Ramsey's.  Miss  Ramsey  might  find 
herself  too  distracted  by — other  things.  Or,  even  if 
not,  the  doctor,  or  the  captain,  might  think  Harriet's 
contact  less  contaminating  than  Miss  Ramsey's. 

Their  smile  was  not  returned.  Hugh  gravely  nodded 
but  the  rest  shook  their  heads.  Impossible!  And  sup 
pose  it  were  possible !  they  were  not  going  to  shun  Miss 
Ramsey  for  refusing  to  shun  "a  sacred  duty."  By 
duty  they  meant  the  bishop,  aware  of  his  illness  but 
not  of  his  extremity,  and  none  but  Hugh  and  the  Gil- 
mores  knowing  that  only  two  doors  from  the  bishop 
lay  Basile,  also  stricken,  and  that  Ramsey  and  the  old 
nurse  were  with  the  boy.  The  young  people  fell  into 
pairs  confessing  their  contempt  for  the  besetting  peril. 
Vigil  is  wearisome  and  they  were  almost  as  weary  of 
blind  precautions  as,  secretly,  were  Hugh  and  others. 
The  two  Napoleonites  "didn't  believe  doctors  knew  a 
bit  more  than  other  folks — if  as  much!"  The  two 
cousins  so  unimpeachably  Southern  were  "convinced 

282 


FORTITUDE 

that  contagion  never  comes  by  contact,"  and  two  or 
three  said  "the  cholera  was  in  the  air,  that's  where  it 
was,  and  whoever  was  going  to  get  it  was  going  to 
get  it!"  They  all  agreed  that  "if  Miss  Ramsey,  be 
cause  of  the  extra  strain  she  was  under,  had  lost  her 
nerve " 

"She  has  not,"  put  in  Hugh  with  a  very  solemn  voice 
and  solid  look.  The  girls  nudged  elbows.  "But,"  he 
added,  to  Mrs.  Gilmore,  "for  the  better  comfort  and 
safety  of  both  sick  and  well  we  must  let  her  off." 

Must!  Ahem!  The  amateurs  lifted  their  brows. 
Of  which  was  he  sole  owner,  Miss  Hayle  or  the  boat? 
"Orders!"  softly  commented  one  tall  youth. 

"Yes,"  said  Hugh,  facing  him  with  a  gaze  so  for 
midable,  yet  to  the  rest  so  comical,  that  the  nudgings 
multiplied. 

"Miss  Hayle's  songs,  however,"  Hugh  began  to 
add. 

"Yes,  how  about  the  songs?"  asked  some  one. 
"They're  no  servant's  part  and  they're  out  before  the 
curtain." 

"She  must  sing  them,"  replied  Hugh.  "They  won't 
keep  her  long  and  they  involve  no  contact." 

"Right!"  exclaimed  one.  "Good!"  said  another, 
and  yet  another.  "Without  them  we  might  as  well 
give  up  the  whole  business."  From  the  curtains 
through  which  he  had  been  peering  the  actor  glanced 
back.  "Those  footlights  are  capital,"  he  said  to  his 
wife,  and  then,  for  the  joy  of  all:  "We've  got  a  full 
house!" 

283 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

The  wife  looked,  turned  quickly,  and  murmured  to 
him:  "Hayle's  twins  in  the  front  row." 

"Yes,"  he  said,  absently  again,  "with  war  in  their 
eyes.  .  .  .  Now,  Mr.  Hugh,  if  you'll  send  for  Miss 
Hayle " 

"Harriet's  gone  for  her,"  replied  his  wife. 

"Here  I  am,"  spoke  Ramsey  at  the  door  of  a  state 
room  appropriated  as  a  passageway.  And  assuredly 
there  she  was;  but  by  the  magic  of  dress,  through  the 
trained  cunning  of  Mrs.  Gilmore's  mind  and  "Har 
riet's"  hand,  and  even  more  by  the  imprint  of  her  new 
weight  of  experience,  she  was  Ramsey  transformed, 
grown  beautiful.  An  added  year  was  in  her  face.  A 
chastened  tenderness  both  lighted  and  shaded  it,  half 
veiling  yet  half  reasserting  its  innocent  hardihood. 
The  astonished  amateurs  hailed  her  with  a  clapping  of 
hands,  in  which,  it  pleased  her  deeply  to  notice,  Hugh 
Courteney,  staring,  took  no  share.  Beyond  the  cur 
tain  the  unseen  audience  answered  with  a  pounding  of 
heels  and  canes  in  good-natured  impatience.  Gilmore 
hurriedly  waved  away  all  the  lads  but  Hugh,  and  Mrs. 
Gilmore  all  the  girls  but  Ramsey.  To  her  she  glided 
while  Hugh  and  her  husband  conferred  on  some  last 
point. 

"Well,  dear,"  she  said,  pressing  her  backward  into 
the  stateroom,  "are  you  ready?" 

"No,  dear  Mrs.  Gilmore,  please,  no,  I'm  not." 

"Ah,  yes,  you  are.  You'll  go  on  from" — they  passed 
out  and  entered  the  next  room  forward — "from  here. 
And  mark!  when  you  find  nothing  between  you  and 

284 


FORTITUDE 

the  people  but  the  footlights,  and  their  glare  blinds 
you,  don't  stand  close  over  them  trying  to  see,  or  they'll 
make  you  look  scared  and  pale,  and  you're  not  scared 
the  least  bit,  are  you?" 

"I  don't  know,"  laughed  Ramsey,  softly,  through 
tears.  "I  never  was,  before;  never  had  sense  enough, 
mom-a  says.  But,  oh,  I  know  I'm  ashamed.  I'm  that 
'shamed  that  I  wouldn't  wonder  if  I'm  scared  too.  Oh, 
dear  Mrs.  Gilmore,  Basile's  so  sick!  The  doctors  are 
doing  all  they  can  for  him,  and  mom-a  and  mammy 
Joy  are  with  him;  but  he's  so  tortured  with  pain,  and 
with  fright!  And  the  bishop — he's  pow'ful  weak,  as 
mammy  Joy  says.  One  of  those  sweet  sisters — of 
charity — I  got  her  up  through  the  speaking-tube — oh, 
you  know  what  I  mean — and  she's  there  now  talking 
to  him  so  beautifully !  And  down  on  the  lower  deck, 
freight  deck,  Madame  Marburg's  sick  too,  and  her 
son  and  the  priest  and  the  other  sister  are  with  her 
and  with  the  other  sick  ones — there's  a  dozen  of  them!" 
The  last  words  were  to  Gilmore  as  he  and  Hugh  ap 
peared  at  the  outer  door. 

The  actor  stepped  inquiringly  into  the  narrow  room 
and  began  a  warning  whisper  but  Ramsey  spoke  on  to 
wife  and  husband  by  turns:  "And  in  the  face  of  all 
that  here  we  are — or  here  I  am — about  to  do  the  sil 
liest,  most  heartless  thing  in  all  my  silly,  heartless  life. 
No,  I'm  not  ready." 

"Tsh-sh!"  whispered  the  husband,  with  both  hands 
up.  "My  dear  young  lady,  this  isn't  you;  you've 
caught  this  mood  of  a  moment  from  your  brother." 

285 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

It  was  not  his  words,  however,  that  startled  Ramsey 
to  silence;  the  audience  was  again  stamping  and  pound 
ing.  Now  she  resumed:  "Oh,  I  hear!  Mrs.  Gilmore, 
the  trouble's  not  that  home  song  nor  the  spring  song 
nor  the  love-song;  it's  that  silly  thing  you-all  say  I 
miLst  sing  if  I  get  an  encore — which  I  can't  believe  I'll 
get!" 

"My  dear,  you'll  get  several.  We've  arranged 
that." 

"Air'— !    Why,  I've  only  that  one  silly  thing!" 

"The  fate  of  the  whole  show  is  in  that  one  silly 
thing." 

"Oh,  it's  not!  It's  in  you  two  talented,  professional, 
famous  people ! " 

"Ah,  maybe  it  ought  to  be,  but  it's  not.  That's  the 
way  of  the  stage,  my  dear.  Your  silly  thing  has  plenty 
of  verses.  Sing  only  two  at  a  time." 

"A  sort  o'  Hayle's  twins,"  laughed  the  girl.  Then 
despairingly  she  dropped  to  the  edge  of  the  berth. 
But  Hugh  had  been  pushing  in  past  the  players  and 
as  he  reached  her  she  sprang  erect  again. 

"This  is  entirely  my  doing,"  he  said  to  her.  "These 
two  good  friends  mustn't  urge  you  to  sing.  They're 
in  danger,  you  know;  greater  danger  than  they'll  be 
lieve." 

Gilmore  broke  in:  "Now,  Mr.  Hugh,  listen  to  me." 

But  Ramsey  put  out  a  hand.  "No,  you  listen — to 
him,"  and  Hugh  went  on: 

"Should  it  come  to  be  known  by — certain  ones " 

"Certain  twos,"  said  Ramsey,  "go  on." 

286 


FORTITUDE 

"It  would  double,  or  treble,  that  danger." 

"My  dear  boy  —  "  began  the  actor  again,  but  his 

wife  restrained  him,  and  Ramsey  whispered  at  him  in 

turn: 

"Tsh-sh!"     Then  she  prompted  Hugh:   "And  so 


"So  you  must  sing  without  any  urging  but  mine." 

Her  lips  parted  in  droll  repudiation,  but  he  went 
on. 

"And  you'll  give  the  encore." 

"Oh,  when  did  you  learn  to  talk?  I  —  w-i-1-1  — 
n-o-t!" 

Once  more  the  actor  tried  to  break  in,  but  his  wife 
eagerly  whispered:  "Let  them  alone!  Let  —  them  — 
alone!" 

"Success  hangs  on  it,"  persisted  Hugh,  "and  suc 
cess  here  means  success  all  over  the  boat.  It  will  mean 
their"  (the  Gilmores')  "safety;  while  failure—  Think 
of  it,  Miss  Ramsey.  .  .  .  Don't  you  see?" 

She  stared  an  instant  and  then  with  a  sign  of  dis 
tress  and  aversion  gasped:  "Go  away!  Go  away!" 
and  dropping  to  the  berth  cast  her  face  into  its  pillow. 
With  gentle  speed  Mrs.  Gilmore  pressed  Hugh  aside 
and  took  his  place.  The  stamping  and  pounding,  for  a 
moment  suspended,  broke  forth  afresh.  "Send  him 
away!"  cried  Ramsey,  her  voice  muffled  by  the  pillow, 
one  eye  fitfully  glancing  from  it,  and  one  arm  waving 
backward.  "All  advice  rejected!  Send  him  away! 
Send  them  both." 

With  such  dignity  as  they  could  save,  the  two  out- 
287 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

casts  fled,  meeting  and  turning  back  half  the  stage 
company  while  the  actor's  wife  shut  the  door. 

"Is  she  ill?"  asked  the  gaping  girls.     "Is  she  ill?" 

"Not  at  all,"  "No,"  said  the  actor  and  Hugh,  right 
and  left,  the  one  complacent,  the  other  "ironer"  than 
ever.  "She  is,  eh — she,  eh " 

Every  head  was  lifted  to  hearken.  The  cabin's  ap 
plause  ceased  abruptly  for  a  second  or  two,  or  three. 
Then  again  there  was  a  stillness  broken  only  by  the 
speeding  of  the  boat;  and  then,  like  a  perfume  from 
some  wilderness  garden,  came  the  untrained  notes  of 
a  song,  a  maiden's  song  of  her  lost  German  home,  and 
leaning  elatedly  from  the  reopened  door  Mrs.  Gilmore 
loudly  whispered: 

"She's  on!" 


288 


XL 

RAMSEY  AT  THE  FOOTLIGHTS 

THE  actor  stepped  to  his  wife.  "Will  she  do  it  all?" 
he  inquired,  and  Hugh,  who  had  started  to  join  the 
audience  by  a  short  cross  passage,  lingered  to  hear. 

"Heaven  knows,"  laughed  the  lady,  shutting  herself 
out,  yet  keeping  the  door;  "I  too  am  banished."  Her 
glance  drew  Hugh  nearer.  "Miss  Ramsey  begs  us,  all 
three- 

"  For  her  to  beg  is  to  command,"  said  Gilmore  play- 
fully. 

"Yes,  and  so  I've  promised  for  all  three " 

"Promised!    What?" 

Mrs.  Gilmore  whispered:  "To  pray  for  her." 

The  smiling  actor  and  the  unsmiling  youth  looked 
at  each  other.  "Why,  that's,"  said  Gilmore,  "en 
tirely- 

"Practicable,"  said  Hugh.  He  moved  on,  and  into 
the  passage.  Gilmore,  following,  stopped  at  its  outer 
end.  At  the  inner  stood  Hugh,  waiting,  in  shadow  and 
with  downcast  eyes,  for  the  song  to  be  done.  What  un 
voiced  supplication,  if  any,  may  have  been  behind  the 
lips  of  either  wTas  not  for  the  other  to  know.  Yet  it 
was  an  hour  of  formidable  besetments  and  we  may  par- 

289 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

don  the  actor  if  an  actor's  self-consciousness  moved 
him  to  reflect  that  there  were  thousands  of  healthy 
men,  some  as  raw  as  Hugh,  some  as  ripe  as  himself, 
who,  for  the  sake  of  a  promise,  a  wife  or  a  maiden,  or 
even  without  them,  standing  thus,  had  prayed. 

He  tiptoed  to  the  youth's  side  and  together  they 
leaned  in  enough  to  look  down  the  dimmed  cabin,  over 
ranks  of  silhouetted  heads,  to  the  bright  stage  front 
and  the  singer.  She  was  in  the  centre  of  its  light  and 
the  last  notes  of  her  simple  song  called  for  so  little  ef 
fort  that  they  only  helped  the  eye  to  give  itself  wholly 
and  instantly  to  the  mere  picture  of  her,  slender,  golden, 
magnified  by  this  sudden  outburst  into  blossom,  and 
radiant  with  the  tenderness  of  her  words  as  a  flower 
with  morning  dew.  The  next  moment  she  was  bowing 
and  withdrawing,  aglow  with  gratitude  for  an  applause 
that  came  in  volume  as  though  for  the  finish  of  a 
chariot-race,  and  Hugh  saw  as  plainly  as  the  experi 
enced  actor,  if  not  with  as  clear  a  recognition  of  Mrs. 
Gilmore's  attiring  skill,  that  the  tribute  was  at  least 
as  much  to  the  singer  as  to  the  song. 

The  same  perception  came  to  Ramsey  in  the  state 
room  to  which  she  had  returned  and  in  which  she 
stood  alone,  hearkening  and  trembling.  She  noiselessly 
laughed  for  joy  to  be,  however  unworthily,  the  daughter 
of  Gideon  Hayle,  never  doubting  it  was  for  his  name, 
his  blood,  his  likeness,  she  stood  thus  approved.  The 
conviction  gave  her  better  heart  for  the  task  yet  be 
fore  her.  She  glided  to  the  rear  door,  locked  it,  and 
dropped  to  her  knees. 

290 


RAMSEY  AT  THE  FOOTLIGHTS 

"Oh,  Lord  'a'  mercy!"  she  murmured.  "Oh,  Basile, 
my  brother!  And  oh,  mom-a,  dear,  brave  mom-a!" 
She  did  not  name  her  father,  though  his  figure  was 
central  in  her  imagination,  broad,  overtowering,  in 
trepid,  imperious. 

The  applause  persisted.  Now  it  sank  but  at  once  it 
rose  again,  easy  overflow  of  a  popular  mind  glad  of  all 
unrestraint  and  always  ready — as  even  she  discerned 
— for  the  joy  of  exaggeration.  She  sprang  up  and 
moved  toward  it,  her  eyes  sparkling  responsively. 
Yet  her  tremor  was  piteous  and  in  mute  thought  she 
said  again,  at  high  speed: 

"My  brother,  oh,  my  brother!  I'll  be  back  in  a 
minute.  This  ain't  for  my  own  silly  self,  you  know, 
honey.  It's  for  them  that  need  it;  for  all  the  people, 
up  stairs  and  down,  and  for — for  the  boat ! — as  any  of 
her — owners — would  do  for  any  of  our  boats.  You 
said  you  wished  you  could  do  some  fine  thing  for 
somebody — in  a  fire — or  explosion,  and  this  is  just  as 
awful  only  not  so  sudden,  and  I'm  doing  this  in  your 
place,  honey  boy;  yes,  I  am,  this  is  just  as  if  you  did 
it  yourself!" 

The  applause  was  still  summoning  her  as  she  ended. 
A  hand,  probably  Mrs.  Gilmore's,  had  tried  the  locked 
door.  From  the  lower  deck  leaked  up  the  sad  "peck, 
peck"  of  the  carpenter  driving  his  nails,  and  close 
outside  the  door  sounded  sharp  footsteps  and  the  min 
gled  voices  of  the  pilot's  cub  and  the  actor  calling 
with  suppressed  vehemence  to  one  of  the  pantrymen: 
"Here,  boy!  Here!  Go  below  like  a  shot  and  tell 

291 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

'Chips'  to  stop  that  pounding  this  instant!  He  can 
saw  if  he  must  but  he  mustn't  hammer!" 

Then  as  if  carried  there  by  some  force  not  her  own 
she  found  herself  again  in  the  bewildering  sheen  of  the 
footlights,  smiling  merrily  to  the  hushed,  half-seen  as 
semblage,  and  suddenly  aware  of  every  throb  of  the 
Votaress's  bosom,  every  fall  of  her  winged  feet,  every 
tinkle  of  her  cabin's  candelabra,  and,  most  vivid  of  all, 
horribly  out  of  time  with  all,  the  still  insistent  "rap, 
tap,  tap"  of  the  carpenter's  hammer. 

At  the  same  time,  unconfessedly,  the  eager  audience 
took  note  of  quite  another  group  of  facts,  emphasized 
by  the  appearance  of  Hugh  in  a  back  row  of  seats,  by 
the  presence  of  Hayle's  twins  in  the  dusk  of  the  front 
row,  with  war  even  in  the  back  of  their  heads,  and  by 
the  illuminated  form  of  the  singer  just  drawing  a  last 
breath  of  preparation  to  exhale  it  in  melody.  Hardly 
in  the  gathering  was  there  one  who  had  not  by  this 
time  learned  the  whole  state  of  affairs  between  all 
Hayles,  all  Courteneys,  and  all  those  others  whom  its 
schemings,  aggressions,  discomfitures,  tirades,  and  pro 
phetic  threats  had  entangled  with  them.  Every  one 
thought  he  knew  precisely  both  Hugh's  and  Ramsey's 
varied  relations  to  each  and  all  those  persons,  his  and 
her  effects  upon  them,  and  his  and  her  ludicrously 
dissimilar  ways  of  getting  those  effects.  They  knew 
this  warfare  was  still  on  and  was  here  before  them 
now.  In  every  phase  of  it  in  which  Ramsey  had  taken 
part  she  had  come  off  victor  and  in  every  instance  had 
done  so  by  the  sheer  power  of  what  she,  with  fair  ac- 

292 


RAMSEY  AT  THE  FOOTLIGHTS 

curacy,  called  nonsense.  So  now  they  were  ready  to 
see  her,  at  any  juncture  the  twins  or  accident  might 
spring,  show  the  same  method  and  win  an  even  more 
lustrous  triumph  in  keeping  with  her  own  metamor 
phosis.  Nay,  they  were  more  than  ready  to  lend  a 
hand  toward  such  an  outcome.  Like  Watson,  they  had 
sentimentally  matched  Hugh  and  Ramsey,  prospec- 
tively,  in  their  desire,  and  saw  that  "such  a  union  must 
sooner  or  later  be,  if  it  was  not  already,  a  paramount 
issue  in  the  strife.  In  such  expectancy  sat  the  throng, 
keenly  aware  of  the  twins  at  their  front  and  Hugh  at 
their  back,  as  Ramsey's  indrawn  breath  began  to  re 
turn  in  song,  its  first  notes  as  low  as  her  voice  could 
sink,  its  time  slow,  its  verbal  inflections  those  of  the 
freight-deck  negro: 

"Do  you  belong  toe  Gideon's  ban'?" 

So  far  it  got  before  it  was  drowned  in  a  deluge  of 
laughter  and  applause.  She  had  made,  as  Gilmore  said 
to  his  wife  behind  the  curtain,  a  "ten-strike."  Her 
hearers  did  not  pause  an  instant  to  determine  whether 
the  utterance  was  wit  or  humor  or  pure  inanity.  It 
fitted  their  mood;  fitted  it  better  than  the  actor  or 
Hugh  had  believed  it  could.  To  the  company's  notion 
it  was  good  nonsense  offsetting  and  overpowering  an 
otherwise  invincible  bad  nonsense  and  snatching  from 
it  all  right  of  argument,  sympathy,  or  judicial  appeal; 
laughing  it  out  of  court,  to  remain  out  at  least  until 
the  completion  of  this  voyage  should  give  this  jury, 
these  hearers,  an  honorable  discharge.  The  shrewd 

293 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

good  sense  of  it,  in  their  judgment,  was  the  most  fun 
of  all,  and  while  in  her  heart  Ramsey  was  gratefully 
giving  the  credit  of  that  to  the  actor  and  Hugh,  the  peo 
ple  naturally  gave  it  to  her  and  laughed  and  clapped 
and  pounded  again  on  second  thought. 

Now  abruptly  they  hushed  and  let  her  resume: 

"Do  you  belong  toe  Gideon's  ban'? 
Here's  my  heart  an'  here's  my  han'. 
Do  you  belong  toe  Gideon's  ban'? 
Fight'n     faw  yo'  home!" 

Again  the  audience  broke  in. 

"Fighting  for  your  home!"  they  laughed  to  one  an 
other  as  they  clapped.  Home  was  the  catchword  of 
the  times.  Jenny  Lind  was  singing  nightly: 

"Midt  Measures  undt  balacess " 

and  three  fourths  of  all  the  songs  not  of  the  opera  were 
of  home  and  its  ties.  What  the  word  might  exactly 
signify  in  this  case  made  little  matter;  on  her  lips,  from 
her  breast,  it  meant  human  kindness,  maiden  innocence, 
young  love;  meant  courage,  fidelity,  the  right,  the  true, 
the  beautiful,  the  good;  meant  anything,  everything, 
which  she  herself,  shining  there  above  the  footlights 
like  a  star  in  the  sunset,  their  darling  of  the  hour,  could 
be  fancied  to  stand  for;  meant,  anyhow,  the  twins' 
war-song  turned  into  a  peace-and-joy  song. 

"Tsh-sh-sh!  let  her  go  on!"  And  she  went  on:  she,' 
Noah's  ark,  and  the  Votaress,  all  three,  together: 

"Den  come  de  buck-ram  and  de  ewe " 

294 


RAMSEY  AT  THE  FOOTLIGHTS 

"What?  what's  that?"  They  leaned  and  whispered 
right  and  left.  "New  words!  new  words!" 

"Den  come  de  buck-ram  and  de  ewe " 

"Why — she  must  V  made  those  words,  herself!" 
Not  she.    She  knew  no  better  than  to  believe  them 
the  improvisations  of  the  Gilmores. 

"Den  come  de  buck-ram  and  de  ewe 
De  ole  niroscenos  and  de  gnu " 

Pun!  a  pun!  a  real  pun! 

"Do  you  belong  toe  Gideon's  ban'?" 

Yes,  verily!  They  clapped,  ha-haed,  leaned  around 
one  another  to  see  the  dark  upturned  heads  of  the 
twins,  and  stole  backward  glances  on  the  immovable 
features  of  the  captain's  son.  At  his  side  sat  the  Cali- 
fornian  just  then  gravely  murmuring  to  him,  but  he 
remaining  as  motionless  as  a  Buddha.  The  refrain 
pressed  on  to  its  close,  and  the  applause  redoubled,  but 
stopped  as  she  prepared  for  another  verse. 

"Nex'  come  de  mule  and  den  de  quail " 

Laughter !  Mule  and  quail !  royal  pair  of  the  cotton 
field,  rightly  thrice  heralded! 

"Nex'  come  de  mule  and  den  de  quail, 
Nex'  come  de  mule  and  den  de  quail, 
Nex'  come  de  mule  and  den  de  quail, 
De  monkey-wrench  and  de  wiggletail." 

295 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

The  senator  clapped  yea,  the  general  thumped  his 
cane.  Half-a-dozen  voices  began  to  chime  with  her, 
"Here's  my  heart  and — "  till  Julian  looked  round, 
when  they  stopped  so  short  that  the  laugh  swelled 
again  and  Julian  resumed  his  seat.  Only  two  or  three 
saw  Hugh  and  the  Californian  softly  pass  out  together. 

"No,  no,  no!"  cried  several,  but  that  was  to  Ram 
sey  for  trying  to  get  away.  "  No,  you  don't !  Another 
verse!  sing  anoth' —  Tsh-sh-sh!"  .  .  .  She  sang: 

"Den  come  de  man-drake  and  de  moose, 
Den  come  de  man-drake  and  de  moose, 
Den  come  de  man-drake  and  de  moose, 
De  hickory-pottamus  and  de  goose. 
Do  you  belong ?" 

Belong?  How  could  they  help  but  belong?  Was 
ever  anything  such  fun?  Not  itself,  maybe,  but  she! 
And  no  more  could  Ramsey  help  belonging  to  them, 
though  thoughts  of  the  texas  and  of  the  immigrant 
deck — where  the  carpenter's  saw  played  an  interlude 
to  her  every  verse — pierced  her  heart  at  each  throb  of 
her  pulse  and  of  the  boat's  pulse  and  at  every  glimpse 
of  the  scowling  twins,  dimly  visible  to  her  just  beyond 
the  footlights.  Silence  fell  once  more  as  she  moved  a 
step  forward  with  a  light  in  her  eyes,  a  life  in  her  poise, 
that  made  her  a  pure  joy,  albeit  an  instinct  warned 
her  that  her  tide  was  at  the  flood  and  she  must  make 
her  exit  on  this  wave.  So  with  a  light  toss  as  if  to  say, 
"Positively  last  appearance,"  she  sang: 

"Den  d 'rattlesnake  and  de  antidote, 
De  rattlesnake  and  de  antidote, 

296 


RAMSEY  AT  THE  FOOTLIGHTS 

De  rattlesnake  and  de  antidote, 

De  rangitang  and  de  billy-goat. 

Do  you  belong ?" 

The  applause  was  as  lively  as  ever  and  increased 
with  each  step  of  her  bowing  retreat.  Near  the  state 
room  door,  chancing  to  look  across  the  cabin  to  the  one 
opposite,  she  saw  within  two  or  three  of  the  amateurs 
clapping  and  the  actor  approvingly  waving  her  off. 
Then  finding  herself  alone  she  threw  open  the  rear 
door  and  was  in  Mrs.  Gilmore's  embrace.  "How's 
Basile?"  she  demanded — "and  the  bishop — and  Mar 
burg's  mother?  All  this  time " 

"My  dear,  you've  sung  only  six  minutes." 

"It  seems  a  week,"  she  laughed.  Hugh  appeared 
in  the  outer  door.  She  listened  to  the  insistent  ap 
plause.  "I  can't  go  back,  Mrs.  Gilmore.  I  don't  need 
to,  do  I?" 

"No.  .  .  .  Let  go  of  me,  dear!"  The  applause 
ceased.  The  curtain  was  about  to  "rise."  The  serv 
ant  who  was  to  draw  the  near  half  of  it  reached  in 
from  the  cabin  and  closed  their  door.  "No,  dear,  you 
won't  sing  again  till  after  this  act,  anyhow." 

"Oh,  not  even  then!  I  just  must  stay  with  Basile. 
I've  sung  all  the  verses  but  one,  you  know." 

"We've  got  some  more  new  ones,"  replied  the  lady, 
smiling  to  Hugh,  who  was  moving  to  let  her  pass  out. 

"Got  them!"  cried  the  girl.  She  turned  to  Hugh. 
"  They've  made  them !  Didn't  you  know  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Gilmore  made  every  line  I've  sung?  Oh,  Mr.  Hugh, 
what  can't  genius  do?" 

297 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Hugh  solemnly  dissented.  "Those  lines/'  he  said, 
"could  never  have  been  made  by  mere  genius!" 

She  stared  at  him  a  moment  and  then  at  Mrs.  Gil- 
more,  who  was  escaping  by  the  outer  door  and  who 
replied:  "My  dear,  every  line  made  for  you  has  been 
made  by  Mr.  Hugh."  She  vanished  while  the  two 
stood  dumbly  face  to  face,  but  on  second  thought  was 
back  again  just  in  time  to  see  and  hear  Ramsey  say, 
still  gazing: 

"Well,  of— all— things!  You!  That  frightful  rub 
bish!  YouVe  got  to  sing  the  rest,  yourself!  Oh,  Mrs. 
Gilmore,  make  him  do  it!  It'll  tickle  Jem  all  to  death 
— to  hear  him  sing  Gideon's  Band! — and  I  can  stay 
with  Basile." 

"Preposterous!"  rumbled  Hugh,  and  again,  "pre 
posterous!" 

"Why— happy  thought!"  said  Mrs.  Gilmore. 
"Why,  the  very  thing,  Mr.  Hugh,  the  very  thing! 
Come.  First  we'll  take  this  young  lady  up-stairs — " 
As  they  started  the  Californian  appeared,  laying  a 
caressing  hand  on  Hugh. 


298 


XLI 
QUITS 

"WAIT  here,"  slowly  said  Hugh  in  response  to  the 
gold-hunter's  touch.  "  I'll — see  you  presently." 

The  modest  adventurer  waved  assent,  yet  looked  so 
disappointed  that  Mrs.  Gilmore,  moving  to  take  his 
arm,  asked: 

"Can't  Mr.  So-and-so  go  with  us?" 

Oh,  kind,  quick  wit!  Three  is  a  crowd,  four  is  only 
twice  two! 

"Certainly,"  said  Hugh,  and  to  Ramsey  added: 
"We'd  better  lead  the  way." 

As  they  led  she  softly  inquired:  "Does  he  want  to 
know  something  about  the  twins?" 

What  arrows  were  her  questions,  and  how  straight 
they  struck  home!  Yet  with  that  low  voice  for  their 
bowstring  they  gave  him  comfort.  Her  forays  into 
his  confidence  not  only  relieved  the  loneliness  of  his 
too  secretive  mind  but  often,  as  now,  involved  a  sweet 
yielding  of  her  confidence  to  him.  Yet  now  a  straight 
answer  was  quite  impossible. 

"He  wants  to  know  something  about  you,"  was  the 
reply. 

She  let  the  palpable  evasion  pass.  On  the  hurricane 
roof  there  was  a  new  sight.  The  breeze  was  astern  and 

299 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

moved  so  evenly  with  the  boat  as  to  enfold  her  in  a 
calm.  Looking  up  for  the  stars,  one  saw  only  the  giant 
chimneys  towering  straight  into  the  darkness  and 
sending  their  smoke  as  straight  and  as  far  again  be 
yond,  spangled  with  two  firefly  swarms  of  sparks  that 
fell  at  last  in  a  perpetual,  noiseless  shower. 

"Why  do  we  go  this  way?"  she  asked,  meaning  for 
ward  around  the  skylight  roof  instead  of  across  it. 

"Because  this  way's  longer." 

"Humph!"  was  the  soft  response.  Presently  she 
added,  "We  get  more  fresh  air  this  way,"  and  called 
back  to  their  two  followers:  "This  is  to  avoid  the 
sparks." 

"Um-hmm!"  thought  kind  Mrs.  Gilmore,  and,  "Oh, 
ho!"  mused  the  Californian,  not  quite  so  unselfishly. 

Around  in  front  of  the  bell  both  youth  and  maiden 
observed  how  palely  the  derrick  posts  loomed  against 
the  spectral  chimneys  and  their  smoke,  and  silently 
recalled  their  first  meeting,  just  here,  in  the  long  ago 
of  two  days  earlier.  The  captain's  chair  was  occupied. 

"Well,  father,"  said  Hugh. 

"Good  evening,"  twittered  Ramsey. 

"Good  evening,  Miss  Ramsey.  Be  back  this  way, 
Hugh?" 

"In  a  moment,  sir."  They  passed  on.  Ramsey 
looked  behind  at  the  Californian. 

"What  does  he  want  to  know  about  me?"  she  asked. 

"He  says,"  said  Hugh,  "he's  nursed  this  sickness  at 
sea  and  at  Panama  and  hasn't  the  slightest  fear  of  it." 

"Humph!  .  .  .  That's  not  about  me." 
300 


QUITS 

"Yes,  it — was.    He's  taken  a  great  fancy " 

"To  Basile." 

"To  several  of  us,  including  Basile." 

"Yes,  because  he  and  Basile  played  cards  together." 

"Not  entirely  for  that,"  said  Hugh,  looking  at  her 
so  squarely  that  she  had  to  smooth  back  her  curls. 
"But  he'd  like  to  help  take  care  of  him  if  you — and 
your  mother,  of  course — are  willing." 

"Oh,  how  good — and  brave!  And  he  wants  to  ask 
me?" 

"No,  he's  too  bashful.    I'm  asking  for  him." 

"Too — !"  Ramsey  pondered.  They 'stepped  more 
slowly.  The  other  pair  turned  back;  the  play  demanded 
Mrs.  Gilmore.  The  sick-room  door  was  so  near  that 
Ramsey  knew  her  mother  was  inside  it,  by  her  shadow 
on  its  glass.  Suddenly,  just  as  Hugh  was  about  to 
say  she  need  not  hurry  in — whereupon  she  would 
have  vanished  like  a  light  blown  out — she  faced  him. 
"D'you  ever  suffer  from  bashfulness — diffidence?" 

He  answered  on  a  droll,  deep  note:  "All  its  horrors. 

She  looked  him  over.     He  barely  smiled. 

"You  never  show  it,"  she  said. 

"No."  To  the  fanciful  girl  the  monosyllable  came 
like  one  toll  from  a  low  tower.  She  laughed. 

"Basile  says  there's  another  thing  you  suffer  from." 

"  'Suffer'?    From  what  do  I  'suffer'?  " 

"From  everybody  else  on  the  boat  having  a  better 
chance  to  do  things — big  things — than  you  have." 

He  smiled  again.  "If  I  did,  no  one  should  know  it; 
least  of  all  you." 

301 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

She  ignored  the  last  clause.  "Aha!  I  said  so.  I 
told  him — and  mammy  Joy  told  him — there's  nothing 
bigger  than  to  wait  your  turn  and  then  take  it.  And 
there  ain't — there  isn't,  is  there?" 

"Well — even  that  can  be  small.  Nothing  a  man  is 
big  enough  for  looks  big  to  him." 

"Hoh! — after  he's  done  it/'  laughed  Ramsey. 

"True—"  said  Hugh  reflectively,  "or  suffered  it," 
and  both  of  them  began  to  see  that  we  can  rarely  lift 
more  than  our  one  corner  of  the  whole  truth  at  a  time. 
"In  your  way,"  he  added,  still  musing,  "you're  larger 
than  I." 

"Oh,  I'm  no — such — thing!"  Her  speech  was  soft, 
yet  she  looked  up  warily  to  Watson's  pilot-house  win 
dow,  but  Watson  too  thoroughly  approved  to  be  look 
ing  down.  "I'm  not  half  or  third  or  quarter  as  large." 
She  eagerly  turned  his  attention  up  the  river.  Visible 
only  by  the  lights  of  her  cabin  and  the  sparks  from  her 
unseen  chimneys,  a  boat  was  coming  round  the  next 
bend.  As  she  entered  the  reach  and  breasted  the 
breeze  which  so  calmly  accompanied  the  Votaress,  her 
two  spangled  plumes  of  smoke  swept  straight  astern 
as  if  two  comets  raced  with  her,  or 

"The  Golden  Locks  of  Berenice,"  whispered  Ramsey. 

"Come,"  Hugh  softly  responded.  The  Votaress  had 
signalled  the  usual  passage  to  starboard  and  unless 
they  went  forward  the  shining  spectacle  would  at  once 
be  lost.  As  they  gained  the  front  of  the  texas  the 
distant  craft,  happening  to  open  a  fire-door,  cast  a 
long  fan  of  red  light  ahead  of  her,  suddenly  showing 

302 


QUITS 

every  detail  of  her  white  forecastle,  illumining  her 
pathway  on  the  yellow  waters  and  revealing  in  their 
daylight  green  the  willows  of  an  island  close  beyond. 
Then  the  furnace  was  shut  and  again  her  fair  outlines 
were  left  to  the  imagination,  except  for  the  prismatic 
twinkle  and  glow  of  her  cabin  lights. 

"That  was  like  you  when  you  laugh,"  murmured 
Hugh,  and  before  she  could  parry  she  was  smitten  again 
by  an  innocent  random  shot  from  the  darkness  round 
the  bell. 

"Do  you  make  her  out,  Mr.  Watson?"  asked  Hugh's 
father,  and  she  flinched  as  if  Watson  were  peering  down 
on  her. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  pilot,  "she's  Hayle's  Wild  Girl." 

Not  waiting  to  hear  that  she  was  known  by  her 
"  front  skylights  standin'  so  fur  aft  of  her  chimbleys, " 
Ramsey  wheeled  to  fly.  But  instantly  she  recovered 
and  went  with  severe  decorum,  saying  quiet  nothings 
to  Hugh  as  he  followed,  until  at  the  sick-room  door 
again  she  turned. 

"  I'm  willing  he  should  help  us,  Mr.  Hugh,  if  mom-a 
and  Basile  are.  I'll  send  him  word  by  mammy  Joy. 
Mr.  Hugh — what  is  it  he  wants  to  know  about  the 
twins?" 

Hugh  was  taken  aback.  "Why,  it's  nothing — now. 
It  was  as  pure  nonsense  as  those  verses.  Ask  him. 
He  can  tell  if  he  chooses;  I  can't."  There  was  a  pause. 
Her  eyes  gave  him  lively  attention,  but  one  ear  was 
bent  to  the  door. 

"I  hope  Basile  is  better,"  he  added. 

303 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"I'm  sure  he  is;  he's  so  much  quieter."  She  felt 
a  stir  of  conscience,  loitering  thus,  yet — "Mr.  Hugh, 
do  you  think  diffidence  is  the  same  as  modesty?" 

"Certainly  not." 

"I'm—"  She  meditated  .  .  .  " I'm  glad  of  that 

I  never  was  diffident  a  moment  in  my  life." 

"You  never  had  need  to  be,"  said  Hugh  very  quietly. 

"  They  go  together,  don't  they,  diffidence  and  mod- 
esty?" 

"Not  as  often  as  diffidence  and  conceitedness." 

"Why,  Mr.  Hugh!" 

"One  thing  that  makes  me  so  silent  is  my  conceit." 

"Oh,  you!  you're  not  conceited  at  all!  You're 
modest !  You  little  know  how  great  you  are !  You're 
a  wonder!"  Her  tone  was  candor  itself  till  maiden 
craft  added,  while  she  tinkled  her  softest  and  keen 
est:  "You're  a  poet!" 

With  a  gay  wave,  which  dismissed  him  so  easily  that 
she  resented  his  going,  she  turned,  stepped  warily  into 
the  cramped  room,  and  stood  transfixed  with  remorse 
for  her  tardiness  and  appalled  and  heart-wrung.  The 
foot  of  the  berth  was  by  the  door.  There  old  Joy 
stood  silently  weeping.  At  its  head  knelt  her  mother 
in  prayer  and  on  it  lay  her  playmate  brother  peace 
fully  gasping  out  his  life.  A  flash  of  retrospection  told 
her  he  must  have  had  the  malady  long  before  he  had 
confessed  it  and  that  something — something  earlier 
than  her  singing — yes,  and  later — not  twins  nor  Gil- 
mores  nor  river — oh,  something,  what  was  it? — had 
kept  her — these  two  long,  long  days — blind. 

304 


QUITS 

"Ah,  you!  you!"  she  dumbly  cried,  all  at  once  aflame 
with  the  Hayle  gift  for  invective.  "You  stone  image! 
'To  help  you/  indeed!  You!  As  if  you — as  if  I —  I 
won't,  you  born  tyrant!  'Help  you' — against  my  own 
kin !  I  will  not — ever  again.  We're  quits  for  good  and 
all." 


305 


XLII 

AGAINST  KIN 

"RAMSEY,"  said  the  boy,  his  voice  gone  to  a  shred, 
"you're  good — to  come  back  in — in  time.  Ain't  you 
going— to  laugh?  It'd  be  all  right.  Oh,  sis'"— the 
sunken  eyes  lighted  up — "it's  come  to  me,  sissy,  it's 
come.  I've  got  religion,  Ramsey.  I'm  going  straight 
to  the  arms  of  Jesus.  Sissy  dear,  I  wish" — he  waited 
for  strength — "I  could  see  the — twins — just  a  minute 
or  two " 

"Why,  you  shall,  honey.    I'll  go  bring  'em." 

"Wish  you  would — and  Hugh  Courteney.  It's  the 
last- 

"  Honey  boy,  th'ain't  room  for  so  many  at  once. 
And  it  ain't  your  last  anything;  you'  going  to  get 
well." 

His  eyes  closed,  his  brows  knit.  The  tearful  mother 
rose  and  looked  at  her.  The  glance  was  kind,  yet 
remorse  tore  the  girl's  heart  again.  "Go,"  said  her 
mother.  "Joy,  she'll  go  with  you.  Bring  the  three." 

"My  last" — the  boy  whispered  on — "last  chance — 
to  do  some' — something  worthy  of" — he  faintly  smiled 
to  his  mother — "of  Gideon's  Band." 

The  door  opened  and  closed  and  the  two  were  alone. 
At  his  sign  she  knelt,  took  his  clammy  hand,  and  bent 

306 


AGAINST  KIN 

close  that  he  might  flutter  out  his  hurried  words  with 
least  effort. 

"She  sang  it  finely!"  he  whispered.  "She'd  V 
known  we  heard  it  if  she'd  'a'  thought.  Wish  you'd 
sing  a  verse  of  it.  It's  a  hymn,  you  know — or  was. 
The  chorus  is — yet.  Anyhow,  it's  our  song.  Oh,  I'd 
like  to  live  on  and  be  a  real  true  Hayle — a  Gideon! 
I  hope — hope  Hugh  Courteney'll — live.  Just  think! 
he  was  on  the  Quakeress  when  Uncle  Dan —  .  .  .  He's 
going  to  do  big  things  some  day.  Mother — want  to 
tell  you  something."  She  bent  closer.  He  whispered 
on: 

"I  wish  Hugh  Courteney'd  live  and — marry  sis'." 

His  eyes  reclosed  and  the  mother  drew  back,  but  he 
whispered  on  with  lids  unlifted :  "  Sing — a  verse  or  two 
— or  just  the  chorus,  won't  you?" 

As  softly  as  to  an  infant  fallen  asleep  she  sang,  in 
her  Creole  accent,  with  eyes  streaming: 

"Do  you  billong  to  Gideon'  ban'? 
Yere's  my  'eart  an'  yere's  my  'an'." 

Outside,  meantime,  before  old  Joy  had  quite  left 
the  closed  door,  another,  the  second  aft  of  it,  opened 
and  the  texas  tender  stepped  out.  A  fellow  servant 
within  shut  it,  and  he  started  for  a  near-by  stair,  but 
checked  up,  amazed,  to  let  Ramsey  hasten  on  for  the 
same  point. 

But  Ramsey  halted.  "  How's  the  bishop?  "  she  asked 
him. 

307 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Good  Lawd!"  he  gasped,  and  then  tittered  at  him 
self.  "I  ax  yo'  pahdon,  miss,  I  neveh  know  de  Hayles 
twins  'uz  double  twins,  male  'n'  female.  You  ax 
me 1" 

"The  bishop;  how  is  he  now?" 

"Well,  Miss  Hayles — you  is  Miss  Hayles,  ain't  you? 
Yit,  my  Lawd !  miss,  ain't  I  dess  now  see  you  down  in 
de  cabin  a-playin'  in  de  play,  an'  a  hund'ed  people 
sayin':  '  'tis  her,  'cose  it  is'?  " 

"Humph!  no,  I  left  as  the  curtain  rose.  How's 
the ?" 

"Bishop?  Oh,  de  bishop,  he,  eh — 'bout  five-six 
minute'  ago — aw  it  mowt  be  ten — whilse  I  'uz  down 
dah — de  bishop — I'm  bleeds  to  say — breave  his  las'." 

"While  I—!"    She  tossed  both  arms. 

"Ummmm,  hmmmm!"  droned  old  Joy;  "gone  to 
glory!" 

"Yass,  de  good  bishop  gone  to  his  good  bishop!" 

"Oh,  who  was  with  him?"  cried  the  girl. 

"Why,  eh" — the  three  moved  on  their  way — "de 
doctoh,  he  'uz  dah,  and  de  bofe  sis'  o'  charity;  yass'm." 

"The  commodore — wasn't? —  Nor  the  senator — 
nor ?" 

"Oh,  yass'm,  de  commodo',  he  'uz  dah — faw  a  spell. 
He  didn'  stay  till  de — finish.  He  couldn'.  He  git 
slightly  indispose',  hisseff,  an'  have  to  go  to  his  own 
room." 

The  nurse  made  a  meek  show  of  despair  and  Ramsey 
turned  upon  her.  "Now,  mammy,  this  is  no  time — 
now — don't — cry. ' ' 

308 


AGAINST  KIN 

The  old  woman  braced  up  superbly.  "Yass'm," 
persisted  the  waiter,  "he  dah  now,  in  bed;  slightly  in 
dispose'." 

A  rumble  close  below  broke  in  upon  the  rhythm  of 
the  boat.  "What's  that?"  demanded  Ramsey. 

"Oh,  dat's  on'y  de  aujience  a-stompin'  de  actohs." 

The  next  moment,  a  step  or  two  down  the  stair,  with 
the  skylight  roof  still  in  sight  as  much  as  hidden  tears 
would  let  her  see  it,  she  stopped  again,  to  stare  anx 
iously  at  another  trio,  coming  from  the  bell  to  the  cap 
tain's  room. 

"Da' — dat's  all  right,"  the  white-jacket  reassured 
her.  "Dat's  dess  de  cap'm,  wid  Mr.  Hugh  an'  a  pas- 
sengeh." 

"  Kentucky  passenger?  " 

"Yass'm,  'zac'ly;   f'om  Ca'fawnia;    dat's  him." 

She  sprang  back  to  the  deck,  and  the  servant  went 
his  way  down  the  stair.  Hugh  had  left  his  father  to 
proceed  on  the  arm  of  the  Californian  and  was  ap 
proaching.  He  murmured  only  a  preoccupied  greet 
ing  and  would  have  taken  the  stair,  but  old  Joy  mo 
tioned  eagerly  to  the  girl.  She  spoke.  He  stopped. 
"Yes,  Miss  Ramsey?" 

"Go  on,"  she  said,  "we're  going  that  way." 

Down  on  the  cabin  guards  the  two  paused  at  the 
bottom  step,  the  old  woman  lingering  at  the  top.  "  Mr. 
Hugh,"  said  Ramsey,  "  mom-a's  sending  me  for  the 
twins."  She  drew  a  breath.  "You  know  about  the 
commodore?" 

"Yes,  Miss  Ramsey." 

309 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"And  the— the  bishop?" 

"I  know,  Miss  Ramsey." 

"Mr.  Hugh,  is  your  father — taken?" 

"Yes,  Miss  Ramsey." 

"Where  are  you  going?" 

"To  bring  the  first  clerk." 

"The  boat's  command  doesn't  fall  to  him,  does  it?" 

"It  falls  to  the  first  mate." 

"I  don't  see  why.    Who'll  it  fall  to  next?    You?" 

"No,  the  first  clerk." 

Double  disappointment.  "But  you;  you'll  still  look 
after  us  passengers  and  help  him,  too,  won't  you?" 

"I  may." 

She  knew  it!  Somehow  he  was  to  share  with  the 
mate  and  the  clerk  the  command  of  the  boat! 

"Mr.  Hugh" — they  moved  on,  with  Joy  at  a  discreet 
distance — "you're  in  a  hurry — so  am  I;  but  I  ought  to 
tell  you,  though  of  course  it's  just  ridiculous  for  us — 
for  me — to  think  I've  ever  helped  you  or  can  help  you 
in  any  of  these  things  or  in  anything — I — oh — I  can't 
help  you,  or  play  help  you,  any  more." 

Cruel  word  in  a  cruel  moment.  She  felt  it  so  and 
expected  him  to  show  the  same  feeling.  But  instead 
he  halted  in  the  lamplight  of  a  passageway  to  the  cabin 
and  confronted  her  with  the  widest,  most  formidable 
gaze,  not  her  father's,  she  had  ever  met.  He  seemed 
absolutely  majestic.  It  was  very  absurd  for  one  so 
young  and — stumpy — to  seem  majestic,  yet  there  he 
stood,  truly  so.  Partly  for  that  reason  she  could  not 
so  much  as  smile;  but  partly,  too,  it  was  because  she 

310 


AGAINST  KIN 

felt  herself  so  guiltily  frivolous,  having  anything  to  say 
to  him,  or  even  standing  in  his  gaze,  gazing  into  it, 
while  his  father,  her  brother,  and  the  bishop  lay  as 
they  were  lying  in  their  several  rooms  so  close  over 
head. 

"  You  can  help  me,"  he  said  in  his  magisterial  voice, 
so  deep  yet  so  soft.  "You  will.  You  must.  I  cannot 
spare  you." 

Did  any  one  ever!  She  tossed  a  faint  defiance:  "I 
can't.  No.  I  won't — can't — ever  again,  against  my 
own  kin." 

"There  are  things  stronger  than  kin." 

"I'd  like  to  know  what!" 

"Truth.  Justice.  Honor.  Right.  Public  wel 
fare." 

She  waved  them  all  away  as  wholly  immaterial. 
"Hoh!" 

With  a  kindness  far  too  much  like  magnanimity  to 
suit  her,  Hugh,  drawing  backward,  smiled,  and  replied, 
not  as  pressing  the  argument  but  as  dropping  it: 

"One  can  be  against  one's  kin,  yet  not  against  them. 
Basile  knows  that.  He  proved  it  to-day." 

"Basile — oh,  Mr.  Hugh,  Basile  wants  to  see  you. 
Mom-a's  sent  me  as  much  for  you  as  for  the  twins. 
Basile's  asked  for  you.  But  of  course  if  your  fa- 
ther- 

"Fll  come,  the  moment  I  can  be  spared.  Is  your 
brother  really  better?" 

Ramsey  flinched  as  from  pain.  She  leaned  on  the 
shoulder  of  the  nurse — who  had  come  close — and  sadly 

311 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

shook  her  head.    But  then  she  straightened  smilingly 

and  said:  "If  you're  coming  at  all " 

She  might  have  finished  but  for  a  faint  sound  that 
reached  her  from  directly  underfoot,  a  sound  of  sawing. 
She  faced  sharply  about,  passed  into  the  cabin,  and 
found  the  Gilmores  and  the  amateurs  in  the  midst  of 
their  play. 


312 


XLIII 
WHICH  FROM  WHICH 

THIS  world  of  tragic  contrasts  and  cross-purposes, 
realities  and  fictions,  this  world  where  the  many  so 
largely  find  their  inspiration  in  the  performances  of 
the  few,  was  startlingly  typified  to  Ramsey  as,  out  of 
the  upper  night  and  the  darkness  of  her  troubles,  she 
came  in  upon  the  show;  the  audience  sitting  in  their 
self-imposed  twilight  of  a  few  dimmed  lamps,  designedly 
forgetful  of  the  voyage  for  which  all  were  there,  and 
the  players  playing  their  parts  as  though  the  play  were 
the  only  thing  real. 

If  the  prefigurement  was  at  any  point  vague  it  was 
none  the  less  arresting.  As  the  Votaress — or  Gideon 
Hayle's  Wild  Girl — might,  in  full  career,  strike  on 
hidden  sands,  so  Ramsey  struck  on  the  thought — or 
call  it  the  unformulated  perception — that  whoever 
would  really  live  must,  by  clear  choice  and  force  of 
will,  keep  himself — herself — adjusted  to  this  world  as 
a  whole;  as  one  great  multitudinous  entity  with  a 
stronger,  higher  claim  on  each  mere  part's  sympathy, 
service,  sacrifice,  than  any  mere  part  can  ever  hold  on  it. 

In  a  word,  Hugh  Courteney,  baby  elephant,  born 
tyrant,  egotist — or  egoist,  whichever  it  was — self- 
confessed  egotist,  stone-faced  egoist — with  his  big-wig 

313 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

airs  and  big-fiddle  voice — was  nearer  right  than  she 
would  ever  submit  to  confess  to  him:  there  were  things 
stronger  than  kin,  bigger  every  way;  and  other  things 
bigger  than  those  bigger  things,  and  yet  others  still 
bigger  than  those,  and  so  on  and  on  to  the  world's 
circumference.  Staggering  discovery.  Yet  how  in 
finitely  old  it  looked  the  moment  she  clearly  saw  it: 
old,  obvious,  beautiful,  and  ugly  as  the  man  in  the 
moon.  It  chanced  that  right  there  and  then  she  was 
forced  to  accept  its  practical  application.  A  white- 
jacket  said  to  her  in  a  muffled  voice: 

"  Ef  you  please — to  not  to  move  up  to Vds  de  stage 
whilse  de  play  a-goin'  on." 

"Oh,  but  I  must,"  she  explained.  "I'm  on  business; 
business  that  can't  wait  any  longer.  I've  already  been 
delayed — "  Her  last  word  faltered.  Something  oc 
curring  on  the  stage  held  her  eyes,  while  two  or  three 
auditors  who  had  turned  on  her  a  glance  of  annoyance 
changed  it  to  a  gaze  of  astonishment.  The  cub  pilot 
came  to  her  on  tiptoe. 

"Oh,  Mr.  So-and-so,"  she  smilingly  whispered  as 
she  edged  on,  "I  want  my  twin  brothers.  Mom-a 
wants  them,  right  away,  up-stairs." 

He  nodded  at  each  word  and  began  softly  to  say 
that  this  act  would  be  finished  in  a  minute;  but  she 
broke  in,  still  inching  along:  "I  can't  wait  a  minute. 
I've  no  right  to  be  this  late.  Basile  wants  the  twins 
and  he's  so  sick  that — that  he  can't,  he  mustn't  wait." 

"Missy,"  pleadingly  whispered  old  Joy  at  their 
backs,  "missy!"  But  neither  she  nor  the  cub  pilot 

314 


WHICH  FROM  WHICH 

could  stop  the  messenger.  Nor  did  she  heed  the  grow 
ing  number  of  those  seated  all  about  her  whose  atten 
tion  she  attracted,  though  now  they  were  a  dozen,  a 
score,  glancing,  in  a  suppressed  flutter,  from  her  to  the 
stage  and  from  the  stage  to  her  and  one  another. 

Yet  she  stopped.  For  on  the  stage,  in  the  play,  in 
the  part  that  was  to  have  been  hers,  she  beheld  "  Har 
riet"  doing  that  part  so  well,  and  winning  such  lively 
approval,  that  doing  it  better  would  have  distorted  the 
play.  Rouged  and  coifed  to  reduce  her  apparent  age 
as  much  as  Ramsey's  was  to  have  been  increased,  she 
was  at  all  points  so  like  what  Ramsey  would  have 
been  that  the  bulk  of  the  audience  had  mistaken  her 
for  Ramsey  and  had  made  her  more  and  more  a 
favorite  at  each  brief  reappearance. 

Fearful  moment.  Beyond  sight  only  to  the  outer 
eye,  the  bishop,  whom  she  herself  had  pushed  into  the 
grapple  of  the  pestilence,  lay  dead.  Basile  was  dying. 
Two  of  the  Courteneys  were  plague  stricken,  and  the 
third,  for  whom  she  felt  a  special,  inexplicable  ac 
countability,  was,  with  Gilmore  and  Watson,  in  con 
stant  mortal  peril  from  her  twin  brothers,  and  the 
twins  therefore  from  them.  Before  her  eyes,  so  near 
she  could  have  tossed  a  flower  to  her,  was  Phyllis, 
a  spectre  from  an  awful  past,  the  destroyer  of  the 
Quakeress,  liable  herself,  within  any  hour,  should  the 
truth  be  discovered,  to  be  burned  like  a  witch.  There 
she  was,  "the  slave  girl  Phyllis,"  as  the  runaway  ad 
vertisement  would  have  had  it,  a  culprit,  and  a  property 
no  way  superior,  in  popular  regard,  to  the  blackest 

315 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

African,  yet  by  Hayle  blood  so  near  of  kin — kin!  kin 
to  her! — that  with  no  other  aid  than  a  few  touches  of 
paint  and  pencil  she  was  being  enthusiastically  ac 
claimed  as  Ramsey  Hayle  by  an  assemblage  which 
has  just  applauded  her,  Ramsey,  in  the  blaze  of  those 
same  footlights.  Fearful  moment!  that  aged  her  as 
no  earlier  moment  ever  had;  yes,  and  for  the  instant, 
at  least,  threw  into  her  face  a  maturity  that  height 
ened  the  unhappy  resemblance. 

She  stopped  because  her  presence  seemed  about  to 
precipitate  a  terrible  mischief,  and  she  stood  because 
flight  would  but  leave  that  mischief  to  do  its  worst. 
Through  this  glaring  show  of  likeness  she  seemed  to 
be  in  the  keenest  danger  of  betraying  back  into  slavery 
on  the  spot  this  poor,  intrepid  "Harriet,"  identified  as 
the  Phyllis  supposed  these  ten  years  to  be  under  the 
floods  of  the  Mississippi.  At  that  moment,  on  the 
stage,  in  Ramsey's  role  of  a  housemaid,  the  role  from 
which  Ramsey  bitterly  remembered  she  had  been  ex 
cused  through  Hugh  Courteney's  urging,  "Harriet" 
chanced  to  be  acting  a  ludicrous  dismay  before  a 
transient  dilemma  in  which,  as  in  Ramsey's,  staying 
threatened  disaster  yet  good  faith  said  stay — Ram 
sey's  own  present  actual  case  except  that  Harriet's 
was  comic.  A  hundred  beholders  laughed,  and  then 
turning  and  peering  at  the  dim,  central  figure  of  Ram 
sey  suddenly  redoubled  the  laugh  and  presently  re 
doubled  it  again. 

Yet  it  yielded  a  certain  relief.  While  there  is  mirth 
there  is  hope.  Even  now  the  player  of  the  part  was 

316 


WHICH  FROM  WHICH 

recognized  only  as  Mrs.  Gilmore's  maid.  Her  resem 
blance  to  Ramsey  was  passing  for  pure  accident.  That 
the  whole  thing  was  visibly  offensive  to  Hayle's  twins 
made  it  all  the  more  amusing,  and  Ramsey's  pause  in 
the  aisle  seemed  the  most  natural  thing  she  could  do 
on  finding  herself  in  two  places  at  the  same  time.  So 
for  a  moment,  in  which  she  rejoiced  that  at  any  rate 
the  twins  had  never  seen  Phyllis  as  Phyllis.  But  then 
the  demonstration  broke  short  off.  At  different  points 
three  men  stood  up  at  once.  In  the  front  row  appeared 
Julian.  A  few  seats  behind  him  loomed  the  exhorter. 
The  third  rose  just  at  Ramsey's  elbow,  offering  her  his 
seat,  yet  counting  it  but  courtesy  still  to  keep  his  at 
tention  mainly  on  the  play.  It  was  the  first  clerk, 
he  who  had  once  been  clerk  on  the  Quakeress,  where 
he  had  known  Phyllis  as  Hugh's  nurse,  and  whose 
scrutiny  "Harriet"  had  until  now  somehow  escaped. 
Whether  in  thanking  him  Ramsey  accepted  or  declined 
she  hardly  knew,  for  just  then  the  gaze  he  still  bent  on 
"Harriet"  showed  a  gleam  of  recognition.  Ramsey's 
heart  rose  into  her  throat.  She  murmured  a  hurried 
word,  which  she  had  to  go  over  a  second  time  before 
it  took  effect  on  him: 

"Mr.  Hugh's  looking  for  you,  out  forward.  The 
commodore  and  the  captain  are  both  sick." 

As  the  announcement  drew  his  quick  glance  she  al 
most  waved  him  to  go.  Yet  what  was  done  was  done; 
with  Phyllis  recognized,  it  might  be  far  better  for  him 
to  remain,  and  she  turned  her  dismissing  gesture  into 
one  of  detention. 

317 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"I'm  Miss  Hayle,"  she  whispered,  while  both  looked 
again  toward  Julian  and  "Harriet."  "That's  my  old 
mammy  back  yonder.  I  want  my  twin  brothers. 
Mom-a  wants  them,  up  in  the  texas,  as  quick  as — 
never  mind,  here  they  come." 


318 


XLIV 
FORBEARANCE 

RAMSEY  was  mistaken — her  brothers  were  staying. 
The  play's  first  act  was  done,  there  was  great  clapping 
and  thumping  and  the  curtain  was  falling — or  closing, 
in  two  parts  from  opposite  sides,  eased  over  sticking- 
points  by  nimble  efforts  behind  it;  but  though  Julian 
— who  evidently  had  been  getting  through  the  general's 
courtesy  the  indulgence  denied  him  at  the  bar — had 
moved  a  step  or  so  from  his  chair,  Lucian  remained 
seated.  Next  them  sat  the  general  and  the  senator, 
and  the  four  were  debating  together.  Oddly  enough, 
the  twins  were  in  disaccord,  and  while  Lucian  had  the 
senator's  approval  the  general's  went  to  his  brother. 
The  applause  died  out  prematurely  and  the  whole 
company  gave  its  attention  to  the  debate,  Ramsey 
sinking  into  the  clerk's  seat  and  laughing  merrily — 
since  it  was  laugh  or  perish. 

"No,  gentlemen,"  she  heard  Julian  say,  "this  is  the 
last-st  st-straw.  A  nigger  wench  made  up  to  counter 
feit  a  member  of  our  family,  and  the  part  given  her 
which  that  member  of  our  family  was  to  have  played! 
.  .  .  Overlook — oh,  good  God,  sir,  we've  done  nothing 
but  overlook,  every  hour  of  day  and  night  since  we 
started." 

319 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

From  the  other  three  came  responses  too  quiet  to 
be  understood.  Ramsey  half  rose  toward  the  clerk 
and  sank  again,  begging  him  to  carry  her  errand  on 
to  the  brothers,  and  he  had  softly  moved  forward  as 
far  as  to  the  exhorter  when  that  person,  still  on  his 
feet,  called  to  Julian: 

"  Yass!  an'  thah  ah  cause  to  believe  said  niggeh " 

Two  small  interruptions  came  at  once,  provoking  a 
general  laugh:  Julian,  staring  at  him  in  heavy  abstrac 
tion,  said  dreamily,  "Ho — ho — hold  your  tongue," 
while  the  clerk,  at  "John  the  Baptist's"  side,  gently 
grasped  between  the  shoulders  a  fold  of  his  coat, 
mildly  suggested,  "Have  a  seat,"  and  put  him  so  sud 
denly  off  his  balance  that  he  plumped  heavily  into  his 
chair — quite  enough  to  rouse  the  mirth  of  a  company 
already  a  trifle  nervous.  And  now  Julian  was  heard 
again : 

"No,  Luce,  you  can  stay,  I'll  go  alone — or  with — 
thank  you,  general!  Oh,  senator,  we  are  not  blind, 
sir,  though  every  time  we  overlook  some  insult  they 
think  we  are.  Good  Lord !  do  you  reckon  we  don't  see 
that  all  this  laugh  is  at  us,  got  up  at  our  expense,  and 
has  been  at  us  since  the  first  turn  of  this  boat's  wheels 
at  Canal  Street?  We  saw — and  overlooked — that  vile 
attempt  to  take  our  two  ladies  up  the  river  without 
us,  starting  the  instant  they  got  aboard  and  leaving 
us  at  the  water's  edge  a  laughing-stock  for  passengers, 
crew,  and  pantry  boys!" 

Both  senator  and  general  coaxed  him  to  sit  down, 
but  the  most  he  would  concede  was  to  drop  his  voice 

320 


FORBEARANCE 

as  he  continued:  "You  know,  gentlemen,  and  they 
know,  that  any  true  man  would  as  soon  be  slapped  in 
the  face  and  spit  upon  as  to  be  laughed  at.  ...  No, 
I —  His  words  became  indistinguishable. 

Ramsey  was  in  anguish.  She  would  have  glided 
forward  with  her  tidings  and  summons  but  for  the 
clerk  blocking  the  path  half-way.  A  stir  of  annoyance 
ran  through  the  gathering,  here  grave,  there  facetious, 
but  it  stopped  short  as  a  new  figure  moved  quietly  past 
Ramsey  and  stood  beside  the  clerk.  It  was  Hugh,  and 
the  general  interest  revived.  He  exchanged  a  word  or 
two  with  the  clerk,  who  turned  and  left  the  cabin  while 
Hugh  stayed  with  the  exhorter. 

Julian,  without  seeing  the  newcomer,  once  more 
broke  forth,  this  time  plainly  intending  to  make  every 
one  his  listener:  "No,  we  don't  interrupt  and  we  shall 
not." 

"Oh,  no,"  daringly  put  in  an  ironical  hearer,  "Hayle's 
twins,  they  never  interrupt  an  innocent  pleasure!" 

"How  air  it  innercent?"  called  John  the  Baptist,  at 
Hugh's  side,  rising  again  and  gesticulating.  "No 
theayter  play  kin  be  innercent  an'  much  less  this-yeh 
one,  by  reason  'at  they  ah  cause  to  believe  that-ah 
servant-gal — 

He  was  pulled  down  again  with  even  less  ceremony 
than  before,  though  by  friendlier  hands,  hands  of  the 
two  lenders  of  the  sword-canes,  who  fell  to  counselling 
him  in  crafty  undertones.  But  Julian  was  talking  dead 
ahead,  ignoring  all  distractions  and  not  even  yet  dis 
covering  Hugh: 

321 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"We  didn't  more  than  whisper,  general,  till  the  cur 
tain  fell.  Now,  did  we?  When  it  rises  again — what, 
sir?  .  .  .  My  dear  senator!  it's  our  fellow  passengers 
who  don't  see — that  their  kind  intentions  are  being 
made  part  of  a  put-up  game  to  torment  us  to  leave  the 
boat.  .  .  .  Oh,  no,  they — why,  sir,  the  dastards  set 
it  a-going  the  moment  they'd  persuaded  our  ladies  to 
stay  and  risk  their  priceless  lives  nursing  those  damned 
Dutch  on  the  lower  deck." 

The  senator  ached  to  be  the  steamer's  length  re 
moved  but  saw  no  way  of  dignified  escape.  Several 
listeners,  remembering  Ramsey's  tactics  and  their  suc 
cess,  gayly  laughed,  but  two  or  three  gasped  an  audible 
dismay;  two  or  three  men  said,  "Sh-sh-sh!"  two  or 
three  said,  "Ladies  present,"  "Remember  the  ladies," 
and  some  one  droned  out  in  a  mock  voice:  "The  stage 
waits." 

And  plainly  it  did  so;  waited  on  the  audience,  with 
Mrs.  Gilmore  peeping  through  the  curtain,  whose  rise 
would  reveal  "Harriet"  alone;  a  terrible  risk  if  the 
exhorter  should  get  in  the  bolt  he  was  trying  to  launch. 

"Oh,  where  is  Mr.  Gilmore?"  thought  Ramsey,  and, 
"Why  don't  they  call  again  for  'Gideon's  Band'? 
Yet  who  would  sing  it?"  Her  distressed  lips  were 
silently  asking  many  such  questions  when  she  sprang 
up  and  halted  the  Californian,  who  had  come  in  at  her 
back  on  his  way  to  Hugh. 

"How's  the  captain?"  she  whispered  in  smiling 
agitation. 

With  low  affirmative  bows,  so  enraptured  to  be 
322 


FORBEARANCE 

speaking  with  her  as  to  be  all  but  speechless,  he  mur 
mured:  "Get' — getting  on — so  far."  He  waved  an 
oddly  delicate  hand — backward  from  the  wrist,  girl 
ishly— "He's  all— hunkadory." 

"And  Basile?"  Anxious  as  she  was,  she  yet  saw 
while  she  spoke — and  he  saw — that  Julian  had  at 
length  sighted  Hugh  and  that  at  least  three-fourths  of 
the  audience,  the  whole  male  portion,  was  eying  that 
pair  with  the  alertness  of  man's  primitive  interest  in 
man-to-man  encounter.  At  her  mention  of  the  sick  boy 
the  gold  hunter  ceased  to  nod.  His  countenance  fell. 

"Oh,"  she  whispered,  "won't  you  go  and  tell  them, 
all  three,  Mr.  Courteney  and  both  twins,  how  bad  off 
he  is,  and  that  he  sent  me,  and  mom-a  says  come 
quick?" 

He  went.  Forgetting  to  sit  down,  she  watched  him 
go  and  let  Gilmore  pass  her  as  Hugh  had  done.  Now, 
what  was  his  errand?  The  actor  and  the  Calif ornian 
reached  Hugh  together.  The  three  drew  a  step  back 
from  the  exhorter  and  his  advisers  and  conferred  in  the 
aisle  while  Julian's  tirade  went  straight  on  as  completely 
ignored  by  them  as  though  it  were  the  most  normal 
sound  of  the  boat's  machinery.  The  sight  so  amused 
the  audience  that  laughter  came  again  and  then 
clapping  and  pounding,  in  a  succession  of  outbreaks, 
each  coming  so  close  after  one  of  Julian's  utterances 
that  his  dizzy  head  took  it  for  approval,  though  to 
every  one  else,  and  especially  to  Ramsey,  the  meaning 
was  weariness  of  him  and  impatience  of  Gilmore's 
delay. 

323 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

He  spoke  with  his  face  to  his  associates  but  with  his 
voice  addressed  to  those  other  three  in  the  aisle:  "We 
were  invited  on  this  boat  in  pure  cowardly  malice." 
(Applause.)  "To  have  our  weapons  stolen  from  us  by 
servants  and  locked  up  by  underlings  and  to  have  the 
boat's  ordinary  refreshments  forbidden  us."  (Laughter 
and  applause.)  "To  be  thrust  into  contact  with  a 
deadly  pestilence  and  to  be  insulted  or  assaulted  by 
hired  blackguards  on  one  or  another  of  every  deck  from 
forecastle  gangway  to  pilot-house."  (Long  and  loud 
applause.)  "And  all  this,  sirs,  we  have  overlooked; 
but  to  be  made  a  public  laughing-stock  we  will  not  en 
dure  if  I  have  to  pull  every  Courteney's  nose  to  stop 
it!"  (Loud  laughter  and  prolonged  applause.)  Amid 
the  din  Ramsey  recognized  the  voice  of  old  Joy  moan 
ing  with  grief  and  consternation  in  the  gloom  behind 
her,  and  caught  the  words  of  the  cub  pilot,  said  for  his 
soul's  relief,  not  dreaming  she  would  hear :  "  If  you  two 
ornery  cusses  wa'n't  Gid  Hayle's  boys  we'd  clap  you 
in  irons  quicker'n  you  could  lick  out  your  tongue." 

But  amid  the  same  din  what,  she  laughingly,  pain 
fully  wondered,  were  the  three  standers  in  the  aisle  so 
privately,  calmly  saying  together — with  the  actor  as 
chief  speaker,  Hugh  grim,  and  the  Californian  mostly 
a  nodding  listener?  Was  Hugh — whose  big  eyes  and 
stone  visage  so  drolly  fitted  each  other  yet  seemed  so 
sadly  unfitted  to  this  big  emergency — was  he  insisting 
that  it  would  be  idle  for  him  to  go  to  Basile  without  the 
twins,  as  was  only  too  true?  Or  that  John  the  Baptist 
and  his  two  disciples  must  first  be  disposed  of?  Or 

324 


FORBEARANCE 

was  it  his  word  that  the  most  pressing  need  was  for 
the  actor,  long  trained  to  perceive  just  what  would 
capture  an  audience  in  such  a  stress,  to  step  between 
footlights  and  curtain,  tell  the  people  that  honest  facts 
had  never  been  more  crazily  twisted  into  falsehood  and 
slander,  and  explain  the  true  situation  in  a  brief,  apt 
speech,  dignified  and  amusing?  Certainly  something 
had  to  be  done  and  done  this  instant.  But  not  that, 
ah,  no!  Or  if  that,  not  done  by  him,  the  actor.  She 
could  never  imagine  such  a  manoeuvre  attempted  on 
a  boat  of  her  father's,  whose  sole  way  of  mastery  was 
by  pure  lordship  and  main  force.  Yet  here,  with  these 
Courteneys,  who,  he  had  always  said,  outmastered  him 
by  their  clever  graciousness,  and  dealing  here  not  with 
subordinates  but  with  passengers — a  living  nerve  of 
the  river's  whole  public — talk  treatment  might  be  the 
cleverest,  wisest  kind  to  give,  if  only  Hugh — oh,  if 
only  Hugh! — could  give  it.  But  of  course  he  could 
not,  with  that  face,  that  visage,  so  much  too  lordly  and 
forceful — and  hard — and  glum — for  a  clever  task. 

Julian  ceased.  His  high  head  went  a  shade  higher; 
the  Californian  was  advancing  straight  upon  him. 
With  a  pang  Ramsey  remembered  that  she  had  failed 
to  charge  the  gold  hunter  not  to  let  the  twins  know 
that  their  brother's  summons  included  Hugh,  lest  that 
should  keep  them  away.  But  surely  he  would  see 
that  necessity;  and  in  fact  he  did.  Hugh  stood  still, 
looking  in  the  opposite,  her,  Ramsey's,  direction,  where 
the  actor  was  coming  toward  her.  The  old  nurse 
had  stolen  to  her  side.  The  player  went  by  without 

325 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

a  glance  at  her.  It  was  so  much  like  asking  why  she 
stood  there  doing  nothing  that  she  granted  the  old 
woman's  whispered  prayer  and  sat  down.  Behind  her 
he  spoke  busily  for  a  second  to  the  cub  pilot  and 
passed  out  by  a  side  exit.  The  pilot's  cub  came  by, 
had  a  word  or  two  with  the  exhorter,  and  stayed 
there  as  if  on  guard. 

Now,  for  all  these  small  things  to  happen  in  the  one 
moment  and  to  happen  in  the  midst  of  a  waiting  audi 
ence  made  its  show  of  suspense  more  vivid  than  ever; 
excitement  was  in  all  eyes;  every  chin  was  lifted.  The 
Californian  seemed  to  tell  Julian  a  startling  thing  or 
two.  The  general  rose,  the  senator  helped  Lucian  to 
his  feet.  The  four  came  close  about  the  news  bearer 
and  he  told  more.  Ramsey  could  almost  feel  his  men 
tion  of  the  bishop  and  then  of  Basile.  Lucian  asked 
a  question  or  two  and  the  five  came  down  the  aisle, 
one  pair  leading,  the  other  following,  and  Julian  be 
tween,  alone,  overpeering  all  sitters,  with  a  splendid 
air  of  being  commander  and  in  the  saddle. 


326 


XLV 

APPLAUSE 

DIFFIDENCE!  Hugh  had  spoken  of  diffidence — in 
himself — in  the  twins.  Could  Julian  really  be  hiding 
such  a  thing  behind  such  a  mask?  Ramsey  wondered. 

Every  eye  was  on  him  and  again  the  floor  thundered, 
shaming  her,  flattering  him.  As  he  came  on,  the  ex- 
horter  began  to  put  out  an  arm,  to  speak  and  to  rise, 
but  the  cub  pilot  blandly  intervened  and  Julian  ignored 
him.  For  there  both  brothers  came  face  to  face  with 
the  first  mate.  He  had  entered  where  Gilmore  went 
out,  and  now  passed  them  with  a  stare  like  their  own, 
fire  for  fire,  and  at  close  quarters  began  to  accost  the 
exhorter  and  his  two  adherents. 

They  rose,  and  with  evident  change  of  meaning 
thunder  came  again,  though  not  for  them.  The  de 
parting  twins  and  their  triple  escort;  the  exhorter  and 
the  four  about  him;  Ramsey,  Joy,  and  the  returned  Gil- 
more,  who  just  then  touched  her  shoulder  and  whispered 
something  to  which  she  replied  with  quick  nods  of  con 
sent — all  these  groups  lifted  their  gaze,  with  the  whole 
company's,  to  the  curtained  stage. 

Diffidence!  oh,  where  was  diffidence?  Hugh  had 
stepped  in  behind  the  footlights  and  was  standing  and 

327 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

looking  out  across  them  as  foursquare  and  unsmiling 
as  a  gravestone. 

Their  light  was  on  his  brow,  whose  frown  smote  her 
with  foreboding.  Half  folded  he  held  a  slip  of  paper 
as  if  about  to  give  official  notice  of  some  grave  matter, 
and  his  aggressive  eyes,  that  seemed  to  her  to  look  a 
greater  distance  away  from  a  greater  distance  within 
than  ever  before,  were  fixed  on  one  man.  Absolute 
silence  fell.  And  thereupon,  to  the  open-mouthed 
amazement  of  the  audience,  with  his  stare  yet  on  that 
one  face,  and  in  a  voice  that  seemed  octaves  below  hers, 
he  began  to  sing  straight  at  the  exhorter: 

"  Do  you  belong  to  Gideon's  ban  '?  " 

A  shout  of  laughter,  a  rain  of  clappings,  a  thunder  .of 
canes  and  feet.  Sitters  bumped  up  and  down.  They 
were  safe  home  again  in  nonsense  and  were  glad. 
Ramsey's  laugh  was  like  a  dancer's  bells  though  under 
cover  of  the  dusk  she  let  the  tears  roll  down.  Old  Joy 
moaned  and  shook  her  head.  John  the  Baptist  had 
begun  to  retort  but  withered  before  a  ferocious  muffled 
threat  from  the  mate  while  following  him  into  the  aisle. 
"Bucked  and  gagged,"  was  the  mate's  odd  phrase, 
at  which  a  dozen  or  so  nearest  him  laughed  again,  a 
bit  nervously.  They  looked  back  to  see  if  the  twins 
had  heard  it,  and  were  just  in  time  to  catch  from  Julian 
and  the  general  a  last  glare  of  scorn  as  the  group  of 
five  left  the  cabin.  Then  again  came  silence,  except 
behind  the  footlights,  where  the  sphinx-like  singer 

328 


APPLAUSE 

bore  straight  on  through  the  refrain  and  came  to  the 
new  lines.  Sing  them  out,  sphinx;  the  more  senseless 
the  better. 

"Nex'  come  de  'coon  and  de  cockatroo, 

Nex'  come  de  'coon  and  de  cockatroo, 

Nex'  come  de  'coon  and  de  cockatroo, 

De  hawg  and  de  whoopdedoodendoo. 

Do  you  belong ?" 

The  inquiry  was  drowned  in  applause,  which  swelled 
as  the  mate  and  the  exhorter  went  out  with  the  latter's 
two  backers — more  eagle-eyed  and  stallion-eyed  than 
ever — and  with  Watson's  cub  at  the  rear.  A  number 
stretched  up  for  a  glimpse  of  Ramsey  but  she  too — 
and  the  actor — and  Joy — were  gone.  There  was  an 
other  waiting  hush,  and  the  droll  singer,  so  droll  be 
cause  so  granite  solemn,  resumed: 

"Den  turkle-dove  an'  blue-bird  blue, 
Den  turkle-dove  an'  blue-bird  blue, 
Den  turkle-dove  an'  blue-bird  blue, 
De  merry-go-roun'  and  de  hullabaloo. 
Do  you  belong ?" 

Applause!  Was  that  the  end?  Not  if  the  applauders 
could  help  it!  The  day  was  coming  when  a  boiler- 
deck  and  pilot-house  tradition,  heard  by  many  with 
hearty  enjoyment,  by  many  with  silent  disdain,  would 
be  this:  that  aboard  the  old  Votaress  on  her  first  up 
trip — late  spring  of  J52 — cholera  on  every  deck — 
mutiny  hotly  smouldering — the  unreason  of  fear  and 

329 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

of  wrath  were  beaten  in  fair  fight  by  the  unreason  of 
mirth,  and  men's,  women's,  children's  lives — no  telling 
how  many — were  saved,  through  the  cleverness  of  some 
play-actors  and  first  the  youngest  of  all  the  Hayles 
and  then  the  youngest  of  all  the  Courteneys  singing  a 
nonsense  song!  Sing  it!  sing  on! 
He  sang  on: 

"Den  de  grizzly-b'ah  and  den  de  mole, 
De  grizzly-b'ah  and  den  de  mole, 
De  grizzly-b'ah  and  den  de  mole, 
De  terrapintime  and  de  wrigglemarole. 
Do  you  belong ?  " 

The  plaudits  were  at  their  height  and  Hugh  still  on 
the  interrogative  line  when  there  came  from  behind  the 
curtain  a  voice  skilfully  thrown  to  reach  only  him: 

"Give  them  one  verse  more  and  we'll  be  ready!" 

He  gave  it: 

"Las'  de  cattlemaran  and  de  curlicue, 
De  cattlemaran  and  de  curlicue, 
De  cattlemaran  and  de  curlicue, 
De  daddy-long-legs  and  de  buggaboo. 
Do  you  belong ?" 

He  stepped  quickly  from  the  "stage."  The  curtains 
drew  apart.  The  scene  revealed  was  a  drawing-room. 
In  it  stood  alone,  as  if  playfully  listening  for  some 
thing,  the  housemaid;  not  "Harriet"  but  Ramsey. 
(Laughter  and  applause.) 

330 


XLVI 
AFTER  THE  PLAY 

NEITHER  Hugh  nor  Ramsey  slept  a  moment  that 
night.  And  no  more  did  the  Gilmores  or  "  Harriet " 
or  John  the  Baptist  or  even  the  senator  or  the  Cali- 
fornian.  The  play,  second  act,  was  cut  without  mercy 
and  rushed  to  a  close  to  let  its  hero  and  heroine  off 
at  Napoleon,  which  Ned  called  a  "future  city"  but 
which,  some  years  later,  became  a  former  city,  by 
melting  into  thin  air,  or  thick  water,  and  leaving  not 
so  much  behind  as  a  candle-end  or  a  broken  bottle. 

It  was  not  far  above  there  that  these  unsleeping 
passengers  began  to  remark  a  fresh  rise  in  the  river's 
flood,  which  her  "family"  and  crew  had  noticed  much 
earlier  by  a  difference  in  the  nature  and  quantity  of  its 
driftwood.  Near  the  mouth  of  White  River,  about  an 
hour's  run  above  Napoleon,  a  great  floating  tree  stump, 
with  all  its  roots,  was  caught  on  the  buckets  of  the 
"labboard"  wheel — "like  a  cur  on  a  cow's  horn," 
said  Gilmore — and  carried  clear  over  it  with  a  sudden 
hubbub  in  the  paddle-box,  tenfold  what  ten  curs  could 
have  made,  bringing  to  his  feet  every  passenger  not 
abed,  and  scaring  awake  every  sleeping  one.  Neither 
Ramsey  nor  Hugh  ever  forgot  it,  for  it  evoked  the  last 
stir  in  the  supine  form  of  Basile,  and  a  faint  spasm  in 
his  cold  grasp  on  Hugh's  fingers.  Under  his  freer  hand, 

331 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

on  his  all  but  motionless  breast,  lay  his  mother's  cruci 
fix.  Shortly  before,  while  waiting  for  Hugh's  tardy 
coming,  he  had  held  a  hand  of  his  sister,  whose  other 
held  her  mother's.  On  the  edge  of  the  berth,  at  his 
feet,  sat  Lucian,  very  pale,  with  Julian  standing  by 
him.  Both  betrayed  deep  feeling  yet  kept  a  brave 
look  that  was  good  to  see  even  with  eyes  as  prejudiced 
as  Hugh's.  Only  Basile  himself  was  without  tears. 

How  fashions  change!  There  are  styles  even  in 
death-bed  scenes.  This  one  was  of  the  old  fashion, 
bearing  a  strong  tinge  of  fatalism;  no  hopeful  make- 
believe  to  the  dying  that  death  was  other  than  death; 
no  covert,  diligent,  desperate  economies  of  the  vital 
spark;  but  a  frank,  helpless  reception  of  the  dread 
angel  as  a  royal  guest,  and  a  pious,  inert  consent  to 
let  the  dying  die.  Before  either  Hugh  or  Ramsey 
could  come  from  the  cabin  the  twins  had  reached  the 
bedside  and  had  been  received  with  a  final  lighting  up 
of  the  boy's  spent  powers,  which  his  mother  made  no 
effort  to  restrain.  In  a  feeble,  altered  voice,  without 
heat,  scorn,  or  petulance,  with  a  mind  stripped  of  all 
its  puerilities  and  full  of  fraternal  care  and  faithful 
ness,  and  with  a  magisterial  dignity  far  beyond  his 
years,  he  slowly  poured  out  a  measured  stream  of 
arraignment  and  appeal  which  their  hardened  hearts 
were  still  too  young  to  withstand  unmoved. 

His  conversion,  he  told  them,  had  come  to  him  with 
a  great  light,  "on  the  road  to  Damascus,"  and  by  that 
light  he  saw,  as  he  implored  them  to  see,  the  hideous 
deformity  of  the  life  he  and  they  and  the  young  fel- 

332 


AFTER  THE  PLAY 

lows  of  their  usual  companionship  had  been  living. 
Even  Ramsey  knew,  he  continued  as  she  and  their  old 
nurse  silently  reappeared,  that  by  the  plainest  laws  of 
the  land,  they  were  not  too  good  for  the  penitentiary. 
An  overweening  pride  in  their  lawlessness  did  not 
justify  or  excuse  it;  the  devils  had  that,  in  hell.  They, 
the  twins,  were  not  Christian  gentlemen.  They  were 
not  gentlemen  at  all.  They'd  shoot  a  man  down  in  his 
tracks  for  saying  so,  or  for  calling  them  liars,  yet  they'd 
turn  the  truth  wrong  side  out  every  day  in  the  year. 
These  last  two  days  they'd  done  it  right  along.  At 
this  moment  they  had  a  fixed  design  to  kill  Hugh 
Courteney  on  the  first  good  chance  and  didn't  care  a 
continental  whether  they  did  it  in  face-to-face  murder 
or  from  behind  a  bush.  Lying  at  death's  door,  he  said, 
and  in  jealousy  for  the  same  Hayle  name  they  pro 
fessed  to  be  so  jealous  for,  he  demanded  their  oath  to 
abandon  that  design;  to  stop  it,  drop  it,  "right  here 
and  now,"  and  never  to  seek  the  life  of  any  Courteney 
but  in  clear  defence  of  some  other  life.  His  own  seemed 
almost  to  fade  out  at  that  point,  yet  presently: 

"Hold  up  your  right  hands,"  he  gasped,  trying  to 
raise  his.  The  mother  lifted  it  for  him  while  giving 
the  twins  a  tearful  flash  of  command.  Unconsciously 
Ramsey  put  up  hers  as  Lucian's  left  suddenly  caught 
Julian's  right  and  he  held  up  both  it  and  his  own. 

But  neither  the  boy  nor  Ramsey  nor  the  old  nurse 
felt  assured,  and  all  three  were  glad  when  the  mother 
asked : 

"You  swear?" 

333 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Julian  stood  mute  but,  "With  that  provision/'  said 
Lucian,  "we  swear." 

"So  help  you  God?"  insisted  the  mother,  and  while 
she  spoke  and  the  twins  bowed,  the  narrow  door  let 
some  one  in. 

"  Is  that  Hugh  Courteney ?  "  asked  the  boy.  "  You're 
just  in  time,  Hugh.  The  feud's  off." 

"Oh,  there's  no  feud,  Basile,"  tenderly  murmured 
Hugh. 

"No,  it's  off,  thank  God.  I  got  it  off.  The  twins 
have  just  sworn  it  off.  Shake  hands,  boys.  Come,  you 
first,  Jule." 

But  Lucian  led,  with  a  certain  alacrity,  Julian  fol 
lowing  with  less. 

"Now  take  my  hand,  Hugh."  The  voice  was  fail 
ing  but  once  more  it  rallied.  "Give  it  to  him,  sis'. 
.  .  .  Thank  you.  .  .  .  Keep  it,  Hugh  Courteney.  I 
love  a  brave  man's  hand.  We  heard  you  singing, 
Hugh.  My !  but  you've  got  grit.  I  wish  you  belonged 
to  Gideon's  band  yourself.  You're  braver  than  most 
men,  though  most  men'll  always  think  they're  braver 
than  you." 

Hugh  could  only  dry  the  damp  from  the  cold  brow. 
He  grew  fiercely  ashamed  not  so  much  of  his  tears, 
which  those  around  him  were  too  tearful  to  observe, 
as  of  the  boy's  praises,  before  which  he  could  only 
stand  dumb. 

"He's  brave,  sis',"  Basile  went  on,  "and  he's  clean, 
and  he's  square,  mother,  boys.  You  were  on  the 
Quakeress  when  she  burned,  wa'n't  you?  Ah,  me! — 

334 


My  heavenly  Father  wouldn't  'a'  had  to  call  me  in  out  of 
the  storm  " 


AFTER  THE  PLAY 

wish  I'd  known  you  then.  I'd  be  a  different  man  now. 
I  don't  believe  I'd  be  dying.  My  heavenly  Father 
wouldn't  'a'  had  to  call  me  in  out  of  the  storm." 

His  mother  sank  to  her  knees  against  the  berth's 
side,  covered  her  face,  and  shook  with  grief.  The 
daughter  sank  too,  weepingly  caressing  her,  yet  was  still 
able  so  to  divide  her  thought  as  yearningly  to  wish 
Hugh,  for  his  own  sake,  well  away,  as  she  saw  his  hand 
softly  endeavor  to  draw  free  from  Basile's.  But  it 
was  on  that  instant  that  the  great  tree  root  came 
thundering  up  through  the  wheel-house  and  the  dy 
ing  clasp  tightened.  The  shock  of  surprise  revived 
him.  "Hugh — do  something  for  me?  .  .  .  Thank  you. 
Bishop's  gone,  you  know.  Read  my  burial  service.  I 
don't  want  the — play-actor — though  he's  fine;  nor  the 
priest,  though  he's  fine,  too.  Mom-a'd  be  a  saint  in 
any — persuasion,  and  pop  and  us  boys  are  Methodists, 
if  anything,  and  I — I  didn't  get  religion  in  Latin  and 
I  don't  want  to  be  buried  in  it."  He  waited.  Hugh 
was  silent. 

The  Creole  mother,  still  kneeling,  drew  closer. 
"Yass,"  she  said,  "he  shall  read  that." 

But  plainly  there  was  one  thing  more  though  the 
tired  eyelids  sank.  "Let  down  your  ear,"  murmured 
the  lips. 

Hugh  knelt,  bent,  waited.  The  distressed  twins 
watched  them.  The  hold  on  his  hand  relaxed.  He 
lifted  and  looked. 

"What  do  he  say?"  tearfully  asked  old  Joy,  pressing 
in. 

335 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Nothing,"  said  Hugh;  and  then  to  the  twins:  "He's 
gone." 

Out  in  the  benign  starlight  and  caressing  breeze 
Hugh  hastened  to  his  father's  door. 


336 


XLVII 
INSOMNIA 

DOWN  in  the  cabin,  in  one  of  its  best  staterooms, 
where  all  were  choice,  the  senator  wooed  slumber. 

In  vain.  Sounds  were  no  obstacle.  They  abounded 
but  they  were  normal.  Except — "Peck-peck-peck" 
and  so  on,  which  the  steady  pulse  of  normal  sounds 
practically  obliterated.  The  peck-pecking  was  not  for 
him. 

An  unwelcome  odor  may  keep  one  awake,  but  the 
senator's  berth  was  fragrant  of  fresh  mattresses  and 
new  linen,  the  wash-stand  of  jasmine  soap,  and  the  room 
at  large  of  its  immaculate  zinc-white  walls  and  doors 
and  their  gilt  trimmings.  Nor  could  the  cause  be  his 
supper  of  beefsteak  and  onions,  black  coffee,  hot  rolls, 
and  bananas,  for  every  one  about  him  had  had  those, 
and  every  one  about  him  was  sound  asleep.  It  could 
not  be  for  lack  of  the  bath;  he  had  already  slept  well 
without  it  too  many  nights  hand-running.  Nor  could 
it  be  a  want  of  special  nightclothes;  he  had  won  his 
election  over  a  nightshirt  aristocrat,  as  being  not  too 
pampered  to  sleep,  like  the  sons  of  toil,  in  the  shirt  he 
had  worn  all  day  and  would  wear  again  to-morrow. 
Nor  yet  was  it  nicotine  or  alcohol,  the  putting  of  which 
into  him  was  like  feeding  cottonwood  to  Hayle's  old 

337 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Huntress.  Such,  at  least,  was  his  private  conviction. 
Oh,  he  knew  the  cause!  He  believed  he  could  drop 
into  sleep  as  this  boat's  sounding-lead  could  drop  to 
the  river's  bottom,  if  for  one  minute  he  could  get  his 
mind  off  that  singularly  old,  contemptibly  young 
poker-face. 

Recalling  that  face  and  the  grandfather's  as  he  had 
confronted  them  together  earlier  in  the  journey,  they 
were  a  double  reminder  of  the  Franklinian  maxim — 
he  kept  a  store  of  such  things  for  stump  use — that  an 
old  young  man  makes  a  young  old  man.  But  maxims 
didn't  bring  sleep;  he  turned  the  pillow  and  damned 
the  maxim  and  the  men,  with  Benjamin  Franklin  to 
boot. 

It  tossed  him  from  his  right  side  to  his  left,  to  think 
of  his  own  part  in  this  two  days'  episode,  and  of  the 
flocks  of  passengers  stepping  ashore  at  various  land 
ings  who,  as  sure  as — hmm! — would  at  every  step  drop 
that  story  into  the  public  ear  as  corn  is  dropped  into 
the  furrow.  It  tossed  him  back  again,  to  think  how 
his  adversaries  in  the  political  game,  where  cunning 
was  always  trumps,  would  light  down  on  that  story  like 
crows  behind  the  plough.  He  mixed  his  metaphors 
by  habit;  the  people  loved  them  mixed.  Another 
maxim,  his  own  invention,  was,  Take  care  of  your 
character  and  your  reputation  will  take  care  of  itself. 

The it  will !  You've  got  to  take  at  least  as  much 

care  of  reputation.  But  here  both  were  concerned. 
He  could  not,  for  the  sake  either  of  his  character  or 
his  reputation,  let  himself  be  made  a  fool  of  by  any 

338 


INSOMNIA 

one,  however  small,  anywhere.  He  had  got  to  recover 
a  personal  importance  solemnly  pilfered  from  him  by  a 
half-grown  Shanghai  still  in  his  pin-feathers.  Against 
Hayle's  girl  he  was  excusably  helpless,  but  him  he  had 
got  to  get  the  upper  hand  of  and  get  it  quick.  Mem 
phis  in  the  morning!  More  passengers  to  be  dropped 
there  and  the  whole  town's  attention  to  be  attracted 
by  the  burial  of  the  bishop.  Good  Lord !  That  "  ver 
batim  report  for  the  newspapers"!  And  of  all  papers 
the  Memphis  papers!  Avalanche — Appeal — it  was  all 
one,  he  happening  to  be  at  the  moment  equally  at  odds 
with  both.  It,  the  "report,"  would  not  take  a  defen 
sive  attitude.  Poker-face  was  too  sharp  for  that.  It 
would  take  the  offensive  from  the  start  and  it  would 
take  the  start.  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  in  a  war  of 
words  there's  just  one  word  better  than  the  last,  and 
that's  the  first!  And  moreover!  the  brief  "report's" 
main  theme  would  not  be  he,  the  senator,  nor  his  van 
ished  committee  of  seven.  No,  sir-ee,  it  would  be  the 
cholera,  and  he  would  be  dished  up  in  a  purely  casual 
way;  as  the  French  say  "on,  pass  on." 

He  rubbed  his  head  and  sat  up.  There  was  a  chance 
that  he  might  find  Hugh  awake  and  on  duty.  If  so 
his  cast-iron  lordship  might  yet  be  browbeaten,  or 
wheedled,  into  inaction.  Or  if  sleeping  he  might  yet  be 
circumvented.  Was  he  worth  circumventing?  How 
absurdly  troubles  magnify  on  a  waking  pillow.  De 
spise  your  enemy  and  sleep!  Well — hardly.  Let  him 
do  that,  especially  when  you  can't. 

He  threw  off  the  light  cover,  rose,  and  dressed.    He 

339 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

began  to  see  a  way  to  win.  He  would  countermine. 
He  would  raise  a  counter-issue — "Harriet."  Loiter 
ing  by  the  twins'  door  he  listened  and  rightly  judged 
they  were  asleep,  Lucian  being  so  feeble  and  Julian 
so  full.  The  office  was  open  but  empty.  Its  clock  read 
two.  The  card-tables  were  vacant.  The  bar  was 
closed.  Out  on  the  dim  boiler  deck  he  found  only  the 
two  who  had  fleeced  Basile.  They  sat  at  the  very  front, 
elbow  to  elbow,  with  their  feet  up  on  the  rail.  Their 
quiet  talk  ceased  as  he  came  near  and  stood  looking 
out  over  the  gliding  bow  and  the  waters  beyond,  which 
were  out  of  their  banks  and  stretched  everywhere  off 
into  the  night,  a  veritable  deluge. 

"A  good  forty  miles  wide,  no  doubt,"  he  remarked 
to  the  pair,  and  they  assured  him  he  was  right. 

"What  piece  of  river  is  this?"  he  inquired,  and  was 
told  that  they  were  in  the  long,  winding,  desolate  sixty- 
mile  stretch  between  White  River  and  Horseshoe  Bend; 
that  they  had  just  put  Islands  Sixty-two  and  Sixty- 
three  astern  and  would  be  more  than  two  hours  yet  in 
reaching  Helena. 

"Arkansas  your  State?"  he  asked.  "Helena  your 
town?" 

"No,"  they  said,  they  were  of  the  "hoop-pole  State," 
meaning  Indiana.  He  knew  better  but  changed  the 
subject.  "The  Ohio,"  he  remarked,  "must  be  up  on 
her  hind  legs." 

"Yes,  everything  was  up:  the  Saint  Francis,  the 
Tennessee,  Cumberland,  Illinois,  Wabash,  Kentucky, 
Miami,  Scioto — "  The  pair  did  not  talk  like  men 

340 


INSOMNIA 

narrowly  of  the  hoop-pole  commonwealth.  Modestly 
speaking  on,  they  seemed  to  know  the  whole  great 
valley  quite  by  heart. 

So  the  senator,  to  show  how  quite  by  heart  he  knew 
this  whole  little  world,  said  affably:  "The  pan-fish  ain't 
biting  so  very  lively  this  trip." 

The  reply  was  as  flawless  for  candor  as  though  they 
had  the  same  hope  to  use  him  which  he  had  to  use 
them.  Said  one: 

"No,  we  ain't  paying  expenses." 

And  his  mate:  "We've  caught  a  few  little  flappers." 

"Captain's  son  make  it  hard  to  do  business?" 

"Oh,  he — we've  all  got  our  prejudices,  you  know." 

"Yes,  you  ought  to  have  some  against  him  by  now." 

"Maybe  so.  You've  got  yourn,  senator,  we've  no 
ticed." 

"I?  No!  I  admire  him.  The  way  he  runs  this 
cabin- 

"  Makes  her  keep  up  with  the  boat,"  they  admitted. 

"I  never  saw  his  like,"  laughed  the  statesman. 

"Wouldn't  want  to,  would  you?" 

"N-no,  he  makes  big  mistakes.  But — he's  got  a 
future!" 

"So  mind  his  heels,"  said  one  of  the  pair.  They 
were  enjoying  their  politician.  He  saw  that  by  their 
gravity.  In  their  world  men  looked  gravest  when 
amused,  and  saved  their  smiles  for  emergencies.  While 
he  offered,  and  they  accepted,  cigars  he  spoke  absently : 

"The  young  gentleman's  making  a  mistake  right 
now  that  he  ought  to  be  saved  from." 

341 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Another?"  they  dryly  asked  as  they  used  his  cigar 
for  a  light.  So  far  had  he  fallen  in  the  general  esteem. 

He  chose  not  to  hear.  "I  wish,"  he  insisted,  "we 
could  save  him  from  it." 

"Why,  yes! — wish  you  could.  But  'we'  ain't  us. 
We  sporting  men,  we're  mighty  bashful,  you  know." 

"Naturally,"  admitted  the  senator. 

"Yes,  glass,  with  care.  But  there's  another  mistake 
maker  we  wish  you  wished  you  could  save.  We  ev'm 
might  help." 

"Aha!"  thought  the  senator.  He  was  right,  after 
all.  He  had  felt  confident  that  these  men,  treated  by 
Hugh  as  they  had  been,  would  privately  "have  it  in 
for  him";  that  they  would  be  glad  of  any  safe  chance 
to  "get  away  with  him" — not  so  utterly  as  to  imperil 
their  necks,  yet  not  too  lightly  for  their  spiritual  com 
fort  the  rest  of  their  days — and  that  they  saw  their 
chance  just  where  he  saw  his. 

"Ye-es?"  He  mused.  They  let  him  muse.  The 
exhorter,  he  reflected,  having  picked  up  the  trail  and 
opened  the  cry — trail  which  the  headlong  twins  had 
so  witlessly  overrun — these  older  dogs  were  on  it  hot; 
trail  of  the  Gilmores  and  "Harriet."  Somewhere  on 
that  trail  the  captain's  son  would  show  up,  and  when 
the  game  should  be  treed  they  would  be  able,  in  the 
general  mix-up,  to  "go  and  see  Hugh"  and  "cook  his 
goose." 

The  musing  ceased.    "You  mean  the  actor?" 

The  pair  warmed  up.  "Yes,  sir-ee,  him.  That 
fellow's  making  a  mistake  we  might  help  you  to  han- 

342 


INSOMNIA 

die.  God!  sir,  he's  a  nigger-stealer.  His  wife  has  got 
a  stolen  nigger  wench  with  her  now.  Had  her  these  ten 
years.  Save  him.  Save  them." 

"Our  friend  John  the  Baptist  suggests  that,"  began 
the  senator. 

"Adzac'ly!"  was  the  facetious  affirmation.  "Smelt 
'em  out  at  the  show.  That's  how  come  the  mate  has 
locked  him  up." 

The  senator  stiffened.    "  Oh,  you  must  be  mistaken ! " 

"  Want  to  bet?  Pull  out.  Go  you  a  thousand  they've 
jugged  him  and  them  two  Arkansas  killers.  Yes,  sir, 
to  stay  jugged  till  they  leave  us,  at  Helena." 

"Who!— have  done  that?" 

"Same  as  you're  thinking;  they;  them;  him;  that 
believes  he's  bossing  the  boat — which  maybe  he  is." 

"Where  is  he?" 

"Up  on  the  roof,  with  a  select  few,  both  sexes." 

"Gentlemen,  he  must  let  them  go  at  once!" 

"Senator,  not  with  money,  but  just  on  your  word, 
you  sort  o'  bail  'em  out.  If  they  cut  up,  nobody'll 
blame  you." 

"I'll  do  it!  We  don't  want  an  owner  of  the  finest 
boat  on  Southern  waters  to  have  any  part  in  that  sort 
of  mistake,  whatever  his  youth." 

"Youth!"  (Profanity.)  "That  boy's  forty  year' 
old.  Oh,  he's  all  right;  if  he  thinks  he'd  ought  to  pro 
tect  every  galoot  on  his  boat,  why,  maybe  he'd  ought. 
What  you  know  is  that  that  white  nigger's  got  to  be 
took  away  from  them  two  barnstormers  instanter 
and  restored  back  to  her  own  Hayle  folks.  That's  a 

343 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

mistake  you  ain't  never  got  to  ask  nobody's  leaves  to 
save  nobody  from." 

"You  don't  mean  to-night?"  Capital  disguise  for 
eagerness — the  cigar.  The  senator  puffed.  The  pair 
puffed. 

"We  mean  now;  when  the  right  men  can  be  woke 
up  and  the  others — and  the  ladies — sleep  on.  Now, 
straightaway,  while  the  shouter's  still  aboard — and  the 
two  shooters.  If  we  wa'n't  sporting  men  we'd  like  to 
sit  into  that  game  ourselves.  Maybe  we  can  if  it's 
kept — dignified . ' ' 

"  Even  if  there's  resistance?  " 

"Who'll  resist?  The  boat's  people?  Only  thing 
they  dassen't  resist.  Couldn't  never  run  another  trip 
on  this  river.  Resist!  Couldn't  ever  resist,  any  time; 
but  now?  Look  at  their  fix.  Sweet  time  to  set  every 
body  a-kicking  like  steers.  Bishop  dead,  chief  Dutch 
woman  ditto,  that  nice  young  Hayle  boy  that  they 
took  away  from  us  when  he  wanted  to  stay  like  a  man, 
ditto— 

"Oh,  not  dead?    My  God!    I  hadn't  heard  that." 

"No,  it  ain't  been  properly  advertised.  But  Ham 
let  knows  it — I  mean  your  actor.  The  way  him  and  his 
wife — or  lady — are  buzzing  around,  you'd  think  they 
was  the  undertakers.  Maybe  they  are.  He  won't 
resist.  He  knows  how  well  resistance  would  suit  you 
— oh,  not  yourself,  no  more'n  us,  but — the  crowd;  men 
like  them  three  that's  locked  up  and  must  be  turned 
loose  first  thing.  He  knows  if  he  lifts  a  finger,  or  so 
much  as  gives  anybody  any  of  his  lip — and  maybe 

344 


INSOMNIA 

anyhow — he'll  be  took  ashore  and  lost  in  the  woods, 
first  time  we  stop  to  bury  some  more  Dutch;  say  day 
break." 

"Ah,  but  we  mustn't  let  that  happen,  either." 
"Oh,  no!   we  mustn't  let  that  happen,  either." 
"Well" — the  senator  put  on   a   bustling   frown — 
"I'll  see  Hugh.    I  wish — I  wonder  if  that  Californian 

has " 

"Put  up  his  shutters?    No,  he's  on  the  roof .  Why?" 

"He  might  help  wake  up  the  right  men,  as  you  say." 

One  of  the  pair,  without  rising,  tapped  the  senator 

caressingly.    "You — let — California — sweat.    Trust  in 

Providence.    The  right  men'll  get  woke  up  somehow, 

beginning  with  the  general.    That  right?  .  .  .  All  gay, 

but  don't  you  take  no  California  in  yourn  to-night." 

"No?  Very  well.  But — I  wonder  if  you  gentlemen 
really  recognize  the  seriousness  of  this  affair." 

"Look  a-here,  senator,  you  go  up-stairs  and  save 
Mr.  Innocence  from  running  his  boat  into  this  mistake." 
The  sleek  pair  rose,  evidently  to  begin  their  part. 

The  senator  rummaged  his  mind  for  a  word  that 
would  give  him  creditable  exit  but  had  to  hurry  off 
without  it.  Turning,  the  two  exchanged  a  calm  gaze 
and  one  luxurious  puff,  which  meant  that  the  "old 
sucker's"  use  of  them  would  suit  them  exactly.  They 
rummaged  for  no  words;  had  no  more  need  for  words 
than  two  leopards. 

Before  falling  to  work  they  glanced  out  over  the 
flood.  This  was  Horseshoe  Cut-off.  Kangaroo  Point 
was  just  astern  in  the  west.  Yonder  ahead,  under  the 

345 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

old  moon,  came  Friar's  Point.  In  these  hundred  miles 
between  Napoleon  and  Helena  they  were  meeting  one 
by  one  the  Saturday  evening  boats  out  of  Saint  Louis. 
Now  one  came  round  the  upper  bend,  four  days  from 
Cincinnati.  They  knew  her;  the  Courteneys'  fine  old 
Marchioness.  The  young  Votaress  swept  by  her  salut 
ing  and  saluted  like  the  belle  of  a  ball,  a  flying  vision 
of  luxury,  innocence,  and  joy. 


346 


XLVIII 
"CALIFORNIA" 

UNDER  the  benign  stars,  as  we  have  said,  Hugh 
hastened  from  Basile  to  his  father. 

Those  were  the  same  heavenly  lights  with  which 
only  two  nights  earlier  he  and  that  father  had  so  tran 
quilly — and  the  dead  boy's  sister  so  airily — communed. 
With  a  hand  yet  on  the  door  that  he  was  leaving,  and 
while  his  distress  for  what  had  befallen  in  this  room 
brought  a  foreboding  of  what  might  impend  in  the 
other,  he  felt  the  chiding  of  that  celestial  benignity 
and  was  dimly  made  to  see  its  illimitable  span  and  the 
smallness  of  magnifying  the  things  we  call  trouble. 

All  the  more,  then,  a  melting  heart  for  the  tearful 
mother  and  sister,  to  whom  no  word  of  this  could  be 
said;  but  a  stout  heart,  stouter  than  he  knew  where  to 
find,  for  whatever  was  yet  in  store.  Also  a  preoccupied 
good-by  to  sweet  companionship.  Nay,  a  mind  too 
preoccupied  for  any  good-by  to  any  companionship  for 
the  remainder  of  this  voyage,  if  not  forever.  It  was 
humiliating  to  have  even  so  much  thought  of  such  a 
kind  at  such  a  time;  yet  suppress  it  as  he  might,  he 
could  not  wholly  stifle  it,  even  at  his  father's  door. 

Three  hours  later  the  senator,  coming  up  in  search 
of  him,  gradually  discovered  the  presence  of  more 

347 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

people  than  he  was  looking  for  or  cared  even  to  find 
awake — being  who  they  were.  At  the  top  of  the  steps 
he  told  the  watchman  sleeplessness  had  driven  him 
up  here  for  fresh  air.  It  is  but  human  to  explain  to  a 
watchman. 

But  how  was  the  captain?  And  how  was  the  com 
modore? 

The  commodore  was  doing  well  enough,  but  the 
captain — the  watchman  shook  his  head  with  the  wis 
dom  of  a  doctor. 

The  seeker  after  fresh  air,  eager  to  move  on,  yet 
loath  to  imply  that  the  air  about  a  watchman  was 
stale,  said,  with  a  glance  at  the  stars,  that  here  was 
quiet. 

But  the  watchman  begged  to  differ.  Never  by  star 
light  had  he  seen  so  busy  a  hurricane-deck.  Just  now 
there  was  a  lull  but  it  was  the  first  in  three  hours. 
Preparations  here,  preparations  there,  for  the  dead, 
for  the  living,  the  sick,  the  well ;  such  a  going  and  com 
ing  of  cabin-boys,  of  chambermaids,  of  the  immigrant 
they  called  Marburg,  the  Hayles'  old  black  woman,  the 
texas  tender,  the  mud  clerk,  the  actor  and  his  wife,  her 
servant  girl— 

"And  others,"  prompted  the  senator.  " What  do- 
ing?" 

A  hundred  things.  The  actor's  wife  had  got  Miss 
Hayle  into  funeral  black  from  her  own  stage  "war- 
robe,"  and  the  young  man  Marburg  had  brought  up, 
for  Madame  Hayle,  one  of  his  deceased  mother's 
mourning  gowns,  "a  prodigious  fine  one."  It  did  not 

348 


"CALIFORNIA" 

fit  but  the  actor's  wife  and  her  maid  were  altering  it 
while  they  kept  watch  where  Basile  lay  and  while 
Madame  Hayle  resumed  her  cares  on  the  lower  deck. 

And  who  was  caring  for  the  commodore? 

Second  clerk  and  mud  clerk  answered  his  few  needs. 

But  the  captain ? 

Ah,  that  was  another  matter.  The  actor  was  with 
him. 

Mr.  Gilmore;  um-hmm.  A  step  or  so  forward  of  the 
captain's  room,  as  the  senator  moved  toward  the  bell, 
two  male  figures  seated  on  the  edge  of  the  skylight 
roof  spoke  his  name  in  a  mild  greeting,  and,  looking 
closely,  he  found  them  to  be  Watson's  cub  and  the 
Kentuckian  whom  the  pair  down  on  the  boiler  deck  had 
just  called  "California." 

The  senator  expressed  surprise  that  these  two  were 
not  abed,  where  he  himself  ought  to  be  but — sleepless 
ness  had  driven  him  up  here  for  fresh  air. 

"Well,  here  the  fresh  air  is,"  said  California.  "Sen 
ator,  we've  just  been  wishing  we  could  see  you." 

"Ah!"  said  the  senator,  grateful  yet  wary.  "I'll 
just  take  a  turn  or  two  up  forward  and  be  right  back." 

"But — hold  on,  senator;  just  one  question." 

The  three  stood.  "Now,  this  first  question  ain't  it; 
this  is  just  the  cut  and  deal.  Hayle's  twins  have 
offered  to  fight  Hugh  Courteney — any  way  open  to 
gentlemen,  as  they  say — haven't  they?" 

"Oh — night  before  last,  I — believe  so." 

"Ancient  history,  yes;  but  it's  a  standing  invitation 

and  they've  called  him  names:  poltroon,  coward " 

349 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Well,  really,  Mr.  So-and-so,  while  we  can't  justify 
the  names,  nor  the  invitation,  we  can't  wonder  at  the 
givers." 

"  Why — I  can.  I  think  they're  pretty  toFable  won 
derful.  But  so's  he — to  let  'em  do  it.  Now,  this 
ain't  the  question,  either,  but — why  does  he  allow  it? 
It  ain't  for  lack  of  pluck,  senator.  I  know  a  coward's 
earmarks  and  he  ain't  got  'em.  It  ain't  for  religion; 
less'n  two  hours  out  of  Orleans  he'd  offered  them  twins, 
I'm  told,  to  take  'em  down  to  the  freight  deck  and  dish 
up  the  brace  of  'em  at  one  fell  scoop.  And  no  more  is 
it  because  his  people  won't  let  him  alone  to  do  his  own 
way.  He's  about  the  let-alone-dest  fellow  I  ever  see, 
for  his  age,  if  he  is  any  particular  age.  No,  sir,  I've 
studied  out  what  it's  for." 

"Hmm.  But  what's  your  question?  What's  it 
about?" 

"Why,  it's  about  this — and  your  friend  the  general. 
For  I'll  tell  you,  senator,  why  Mr.  Hugh  don't  fight. 
It's  for — can  I  tell  you  in  confidence,  strict,  air 
tight?" 

"Certainly,  strict,  air-tight." 

"Well,  then,  it's  for  love.  He's  in  love  with  their 
sister.  Now,  that's  something  I  don't  wonder  at.  I 
am,  too.  So  are  a  lot  of  us."  He  smiled  at  the  cub, 
who  frowned  away.  "  Now,  by  natural  fitness,  he's  got 
ground  for  hope.  I  ain't  got  a  square  inch.  She  ain't 
on  my  claim.  Next  week  my  face'll  be  to  the  setting 
sun.  So  what  do  I  do  but  go  to  him — this  was  before 
her  young  brother  died — which  I  almost  loved  the 

350 


"CALIFORNIA" 

brother  too — and  s'l,  'Mr.  Courteney,  I've  saw  the 
sun  go  down  and  moon  come  up  on  this  thing  three 
times  running,  and  every  time  and  all  between  I've 
stood  it,  seeing  you  stand  it.  And  I've  studied  it. 
And  I  see  your  fix.  But  most  of  us  don't;  so  some 
body's  got  to  indorse  you.  Now,  being  a  Kentuckian, 
not  blue-grass  but  next  door,  I  feel  like  doing  it. 
You've  got  to  play  two  hands  and  you  can't  play  but 
one.  Well,  I'll  play  the  one  you  can't.  I'll  fight  them 
twins.'  " 

"Well,  of  all— and  he  accepted?" 

"Now,  you  know  he  didn't.  He  said  it  would  be 
absolutely  impossible.  But  he  said  it  the  funniest 
way — !  It  made  me  see  the  size  of  him  for  the  first 
time.  And,  senator,  he's  life-size.  But  I  reckon  you 
knowed  that  before  I  did.  He  took  me  by  the  button 
hole,  just  as  I'm  holding  you  now,  and  talked  to  me  as 
majestic  as  a  father  sending  his  boy  off  to  school,  and 
at  the  very  same  time  and  in  the  very  same  words  as 
sweet  as  a  girl  sending  her  soldier  to  war." 

"And  he  convinced  you?" 

"No,  we  was  interrupted  and  couldn't  talk  it  out. 
Well,  I  can't  go  back  to  him  and  resume,  no  more'n  a 
wildcat  bank.  For  one  thing,  I  wouldn't  take  him 
from  her." 

"You  don't  mean  they're  together  now?" 

"Now,  no,  but  by  spells,  yes.  Bound  to  happen — 
so  many  of  us  so  willing.  I'd  try  to  talk  the  thing 
out  with  this  young  man  and  Mr.  Watson,  but  they 
all  feel  alike.  Reckon  it  does  'em  credit,  but — well — 

351 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

I'd  like  to  talk  it  out  with  you  and  the  general.     I 
think  we  can  dispense  with  the  boat's  consent.    Don't 

you?" 

"Oh,  Lord,  man,  what  have  I  got  to  do  with  that?" 

"Hold  your  horses,  senator.  I  look  at  it  this  way: 
If  the  twins  hadn't  been  too  busy  pecking  at  Mr. 
Hugh  I'm  just  the  sort  o'  man  they'd  'a'  pecked  at,  and 
hence  I  have  a  good  moral  right  to  waive  their  not 
doing  it  and  take  the  will  for  the  deed." 

"Nonsense,  my  good  friend;  good  joke,  nothing 
more." 

"Hold  on;  there's  this  anyhow:  If  Mr.  Hugh  could 
accept  their  invitation  maybe  he'd  take  me  for  his 
second;  and  what  does  second  mean  if  it  don't  mean 
that  if,  after  all,  something  should  force  him  to  drop 
out  I  could  drop  in?" 

"Oh,"  laughed  the  senator,  freeing  his  buttonhole 
by  gentle  force  and  edging  away,  "very  well;  but  the 
twins!  They're  out!  Look  at  their  fix;  they  can't  fight 
now." 

"Senator,  just  so.  But  the  general,  all  along  he's 
sort  o'  been  their  second;  indorsed  for  'em  same's  I'd 
like  to  for  Mr.  Hugh.  He'd  be  their  second  now  if 
they  could  fight — as  we  know  they'd  be  glad  to.  So, 
why  ain't  he  honor  bound  to  take  their  place  if  I  take 
Mr.  Hugh's?  This  young  gentleman'll  act  for  me — 
won't  you? — yes,  and  the  senator  can  act  for  the  gen 
eral.  Then,  senator,  the  first  time  we  can  get  ashore 
we  can  settle  the  whole  thing  without  involving  Mr. 
Hugh  and  without  ever  letting  the  ladies  know — or  the 

352 


"CALIFORNIA" 

crowd  either — that  it  ain't  just  our  own  affair.  I  can 
easily  give  the  general  cause,  you  know." 

"My  friend,"  said  the  cunning  senator,  who  knew 
his  ruling  sin  was  tardiness  and  that  he  was  tardy  now, 
"I  don't  say  anything  could  be  fairer — in  its  right 
time.  If  you'll  go  to  bed  and  to  sleep ' 

"Senator,  delays  are  dangerous.  I  might  get  the 
cholera.  The  general  might  get  it.  Or  some  other 
trouble  might  crop  up  and  sort  o'  separate  us." 

Ah!  It  flashed  into  the  senator's  mind  that  Cali 
fornia,  though  meaning  all  he  said,  had  in  full  view  the 
Gilmore-Harriet  affair  and  that  this  was  a  move  in 
that,  a  move  to  checkmate.  His  countermove  had  to 
be  prompt;  some  one  was  coming  up  the  nearest  steps. 
"My  dear  sir,  there  is  another  trouble;  serious,  im 
minent,  and  almost  sure  to  involve  our  friend  Hugh  in 
a  vital  mistake —  Why,  general,  I  thought  you,  at 
least,  was  asleep." 

"  Sss-enator,  I  was.  I  mmm-erely  had  not  und-ressed. 
Have  you  fff-ound  that  young  man?" 

"Not  yet,  general.  Let's  go  see  him  together.  I 
want  to  see  you,  too,  for  just  a  moment,  if  these  gen 
tlemen  will  excuse  me  that  long." 

"Mr.  Hugh's  with  the  first  clerk,  yonder  by  the 
bell,"  said  the  gold  hunter.  "We'll  wait  here,  eh?" 

The  general  wanted  to  reply,  but  "  I  wish  you  would," 
responded  the  senator  and  hurried  him  away. 


353 


XLIX 
KANGAROO  POINT 

ABOARD  the  Votaress  was  a  gentle,  retiring  lady, 
large  and  fair,  whom  both  Hugh  and  Ramsey  had 
liked  from  the  first,  yet  whose  acquaintance  they  had 
made  very  slowly  and  quite  separately.  She  was  a 
parson's  wife,  who  had  never  seen  a  play,  a  game  of 
cards,  or  a  ball,  danced  a  dance,  read  a  novel,  tasted 
wine,  or  worn  a  jewel.  She  had  four  handsome,  de 
corous,  well-freckled  children,  two  boys,  two  girls. 

At  table,  until  the  married  pairs  of  Vicksburg, 
Yazoo,  and  Milliken's  Bend  had  gone  ashore,  she  had 
not  sat  with  the  foremost-  dozen,  although  she  and  the 
bishop  spoke  often  together  and  were  always  "sister" 
and  "brother."  Her  near  neighbors  at  the  board  had 
been  the  Carthaginians  and  Napoleonites,  and  it  was 
through  them  that  she  had  met  the  Gilmores.  To 
Ramsey  and  Hugh  she  had  been  made  known  by  her 
children,  one  boy  and  girl  having  fallen  wildly  in  love 
with  the  young  lady's  red  curls,  and  the  other  two  with 
Hugh  and  his  frown. 

The  Gilmores'  hearts  she  had  won  largely  by  the 
way  in  which  her  talks  with  them  revealed  the  sweet 
charities  of  a  soul  unwarped  by  the  tyrannous  pro 
hibitions  under  which  she  had  been  "  born  and  raised  " 

354 


KANGAROO  POINT 

and  to  which  she  was  still  loyal;  and  she  had  crowned 
the  conquest  by  a  gentle,  inflexible  refusal  to  "brother" 
John  the  Baptist.  In  their  lively  minds  she  reawakened 
the  age-old  issue  between  artist  and  pietist.  Said  the 
amused  Gilmore: 

"Humiliate  me?  Not  in  the  least.  She  only  hum 
bles  me;  she's  such  a  beautiful  example  of— 

"Yes,  but,  goodness,  don't  say  it  here!"  said  his 
wife.  "Harriet"  and  the  exhorter  were  already  trouble 
enough. 

Nevertheless,  "What  lovely  types  of  character,"  in 
sisted  Gilmore,  "  come  often,  so  often,  from  ugly  types 
of  faith!" 

The  wife  flinched  and  looked  about  but  he  persisted: 
"So  much  better,  my  love — this  is  only  my  humble 
tribute  to  her — so  much  better  is  religion,  even  her  re 
ligion,  without  the  liberal  arts  than  the  liberal  arts 
without  religion.  Faith  is  the  foundation,  they  are  the 
upper  works." 

"Dear,  you  should  have  been  a  preacher!" 

"No,  I'd  always  be  preaching  that  one  sermon.  If 
I  didn't  tell  it  to  you,  I'd  have  to  tell  it  to  her,  or  make 
you  tell  her." 

Mrs.  Gilmore  had  not  told  her,  but  between  the  two 
women,  across  the  gulf  between  them,  there  had  grown 
such  a  commerce  of  silent  esteem  that  neither  Hugh 
nor  Ramsey  knew  which  one's  modest  liberalism  to  ad 
mire  most.  To  Ramsey  it  was  nothing  against  the 
matron  that  she  was  not  nursing  the  immigrant  sick. 
Only  Madame  Hayle  was  allowed  to  do  that,  and  the 

355 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

parson's  wife,  being  quite  without  madame's  art  of 
doing  as  she  pleased,  had  had  to  submit  conscience  and 
compassions  to  the  captain's  forbiddal,  repeated  by  the 
commodore  and  Hugh.  But  after  the  play  she  had 
insisted,  "strict  orders  or  none,  and  whether  her  chil 
dren  were  four  or  forty-four,"  on  entering  the  service 
of  the  busy  Gilmores,  "no  matter  how,"  and  was  now, 
with  old  Joy,  in  the  pilot-house,  a  most  timely  suc 
cessor  to  the  actor's  wife  in  the  social  care  of  Ramsey. 
For  to  Ramsey,  in  this  first  bereavement  of  her  life, 
sleep  was  as  abhorrent  as  if  her  brother's  burial  were 
already  at  hand.  Grief  was  good,  for  grief  was  love. 
Sleep  was  heartlessness.  Moreover,  in  sleep,  only  in 
sleep,  there  was  no  growth.  Of  course,  that  was  not 
true;  only  yesterday  and  the  day  before  she  had  grown 
consciously  between  evening  and  morning,  grown  won 
derfully.  But  she  had  forgotten  that  and  in  every 
fibre  of  her  being  felt  a  frenzy  for  growth,  for  getting 
on,  like  the  frenzy  of  a  bird  left  behind  by  the  flock. 
All  the  boat's  human  life,  all  its  majestic  going — led  on 
by  the  stars — and  especially  all  those  by  whose  com 
mand  or  guidance  it  went,  made  for  growth.  So,  too, 
did  this  dear  Mrs.  So-and-so,  who  could  so  kindly  un 
derstand  how  one  in  deep  sorrow  may  go  on  seeing 
the  drollery  of  things.  Grief,  love,  solace,  growth, 
she  was  all  of  them  in  one.  If  she,  Ramsey,  might 
neither  nurse  the  sick  with  her  mother  nor  watch  with 
Mrs.  Gilmore  and  "Harriet,"  here  was  this  dear,  fair 
lady  with  the  tenderest,  most  enlightening  words  of 
faith  and  comfort  that  ever  had  fallen  on  her  ears; 

356 


KANGAROO  POINT 

words  never  too  eager  or  too  many,  but  always  just 
in  time  and  volume  to  satisfy  grief's  fitful  question 
ings. 

For  refuge  they  had  tried  every  quarter  of  these 
upper  decks;  now  paced  them,  now  stood,  now  sat, 
and  had  found  each  best  in  its  turn;  but  such  open-air 
seclusion  itself  drew  notice,  made  notice  more  felt,  and 
so  the  dusk  of  the  pilot-house  had  soon  been  found  best 
of  all.  It  remained  so  now — while  the  great  chimneys 
out  forward  breathed  soothingly,  and  a  mile  astern 
glimmered  the  Westwood,  and  a  mile  ahead  glimmered 
the  Antelope,  and  here  among  the  few  occupants  of  the 
visitors'  bench  there  drifted  a  soft,  alluring  gossip 
about  each  newly  turned  bend  of  the  most  marvellous 
of  rivers.  To  nestle  back  in  its  larboard  corner  while 
now  some  one  came  up  and  in  and  now  some  one 
slipped  down  and  out,  and  while  ever  the  pilot's  head 
and  shoulders  and  the  upper  spokes  of  his  vigilant 
wheel  stood  outlined  against  the  twinkling  sky  and 
rippling  air,  was  like  resting  one's  head  on  the  Vo 
taress's  bosom. 

And  yet  another  reason  made  sleep  unthinkable. 
He  who  had  said,  "I  need  you,"  was  awake,  was  on 
watch.  Now  that  the  feud,  blessed  thought,  was  all 
off,  sworn  off,  and  a  lingering  mistrust  of  the  twins 
seemed  quite  unsisterly,  probably  that  need  of  her,  or 
illusion  of  need,  had  passed.  Well,  if  so  he  ought  to 
say  so!  For  here  were  great  cares  and  dangers  yet. 
The  river  was  out  of  all  its  bounds.  Most  of  those 
bounds  themselves  and  the  great  plantations  behind 

357 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

them  were  under  the  swirling  deluge.  The  waters  of 
Scrubgrass  Bend,  for  instance,  were  crosscutting  over 
Scrubgrass  Towhead  in  one  league-wide  sheet,  and 
Islands  Seventy-this-and-that  and  Islands  Sixty-that- 
and-this  were  under  them  to  their  tree-tops.  These 
things  might  be  less  fearful  in  fact  than  in  show,  or 
might  be  a  matter  wherein  it  was  only  a  trifle  more 
imbecile  to  think  of  her  helping  than  in  some  others. 
Yet  here  were  officers  and  servants  of  the  boat  busy 
out  of  turn  and  omitting  routine  duties  unfortunate  to 
omit  and  which  she  might  perform  if  they  would  but 
let  her.  She  noticed  the  presence  of  both  pilots  at 
once — Watson  at  the  wheel,  Ned  on  the  bench.  No 
wonder,  with  so  awesome  a  charge;  guiding  a  boat  like 
this,  teeming  with  human  souls  and  driven  pell-mell 
through  such  a  war  of  elemental  forces  in  desert  dark 
ness,  with  never  a  beacon  light  from  point  to  point, 
from  hour  to  hour;  running  every  chute,  with  a  chute 
behind  nearly  every  point  or  island,  and  the  vast  bends 
looping  on  each  other  like  the  folds  of  a  python  and 
but  little  more  to  be  trusted. 

And  here  was  this  "Harriet"  affair,  a  care  and 
danger  that  as  yet  smouldered,  but  at  any  moment, 
with  or  without  aid  of  the  twins,  might  blaze.  No  one 
mentioned  it,  but  you  could  smell  it  like  smoke.  And 
here  was  that  supreme  care  and  danger,  the  plague, 
with  all  the  earlier  precautions  against  it  dropped,  and 
with  its  constant  triple  question:  Who  next  of  the  sick? 
Who  next  of  the  well?  Who  next  on  either  of  the  decks 
below? 

358 


KANGAROO  POINT 

Two  or  three  times  Hugh  came,  sat  awhile,  spoke 
rarely,  and  went  out.  What  a  spontaneous  new  def 
erence  every  one  accorded  him  and  with  what  a  simple 
air  of  habitude  he  received  it,  though  it  seemed  to 
mark  him  for  bereavement  as  well  as  for  command! 
Why  did  he  come?  Why  did  he  go?  wondered  Ramsey. 
Not  that  she  would  hinder  him,  coming  or  going.  She 
could  not  guess  that  one  chief  object  was  care  of  her. 
She  could  only  recall  how  lately  they  two  had  stood 
behind  the  footlights  and  sung  their  nonsense  rhymes, 
partners  in,  and  justified  by,  one  brave,  merciful  pur 
pose.  Ought  he  to  let  care,  danger,  and  grief,  as  soon 
as  they  had  become  acutely  hers  and  his,  drive  him 
and  her  apart  and  strike  him  dumb  to  her,  as  dumb  as  a 
big  ship  dropping  her  on  a  desert  shore  and  sailing 
away?  Various  subtleties  of  manner  in  others  on  the 
bench  convinced  her  that  they  were  thinking  of  him 
and  her  and  thinking  these  same  questions.  What 
right  had  he  to  bring  that  upon  her?  Once,  as  he 
went  out,  somebody  unwittingly  stung  her  keenly  by 
remarking,  to  no  one  in  particular,  that  it  was  hard  to 
see  what  should  keep  him  so  busy. 

"D'you  know,"  retorted  Ned,  "what  running  a 
boat  is?" 

"Why,  yes,  it's  making  things  spin  so  smooth  you 
can't  see  'em  spin,  ain't  it?" 

"Right.  Ever  fly  a  kite?  Not  with  yo'  eyes  shet, 
hey?  Well,  a  boat's  a  hundred  kites.  Ain't  she, 
Watsy?" 

"Two  hundred,"  said  Watson,  at  the  wheel. 

359 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"But  Mr.  Hugh  ain't  actually  running  this  boat,  is 
he?" 

"I  ain't  said  he  wuz,"  replied  Ned,  and — - 

"He  ain't  a-runnin'  no  other,"  said  Watson. 

For  an  instant  Ramsey  was  all  pride  for  him  they 
exalted;  but  in  the  next  instant  a  wave  of  resentment 
went  through  her  as  if  their  vaunting  were  his;  as  if 
her  pride  were  his  own  confessed,  colossal  vanity;  as 
if  the  price  of  his  uplift  were  her  belittlement.  Never 
mind,  he  should  pay!  Absurd,  absurd;  but  she  was 
harrowingly  tired,  lonely,  idle,  grief-burdened,  and 
desolate,  and  absurdity  itself  was  relief.  He  should 
pay,  let  his  paying  cost  her  double.  Somehow,  in  some 
feminine,  minute,  pinhole  way,  she  would  deflate  him, 
wing  him,  bring  him  down,  before  he  should  soar  an 
other  round.  With  old  Joy  at  her  feet,  in  the  dusk  of 
her  corner  beyond  Mrs.  So-and-so,  the  parson's  wife, 
she  allowed  herself  a  poor,  bitter-sweet  smile. 

Each  time  when  Hugh  had  come  back  to  the  bench, 
room  had  been  hurriedly  made  for  him  next  the  par 
son's  wife — "stabboard  side" — who,  speaking  for  all, 
promptly  began  to  interrogate  him,  her  first  question 
always  being  as  to  his  father's  condition,  which  did 
not  improve.  Making  room  on  the  bench  made  room 
in  the  conversation — decoying  pauses  hopefully  de 
signed  to  lure  him  into  saying  something,  anything,  to 
Ramsey,  or  her  to  him;  but  always  the  kind  trap  had 
gone  unsprung.  Two  or  three  times,  obviously,  Mrs. 
So-and-so's  inquiries  had  first  been  Ramsey's  to  her; 
as  when  one  of  them  elicited  the  fact  that  the  next 

360 


KANGAROO  POINT 

turn  would  be  Horseshoe  Cut-off  and  Kangaroo  Point; 
and  once,  at  length,  after  twice  failing  to  believe  the 
ear  she  bent  to  Ramsey's  murmur,  she  said  audibly: 

"Ask  him,  dear;  ask  him  yourself." 

Every  one  waited  and  presently  Hugh  remarked: 

"Til  answer  if  lean." 

"I'd  rather,"  faltered  Ramsey,  "ask  John  the  Bap 
tist." 

The  unlucky  mention  took  no  evident  effect  on  any 
one.  If  that  was  the  snub  she  would  have  to  try 
again. 

"I  can  ask  him  for  you,"  said  Hugh.  "He's  up, 
expecting  to  leave  us  at  Helena." 

"No,  thank  you,"  she  sighed,  "you're  too  awfully 
busy.  It  won't  make  any  real  difference  if  I  never 
find  out." 

"Won't  sink  the  boat  to  ask,"  drawled  Watson; 
but  she  remained  silent  till  Hugh  inquired: 

"Are  you  sure  I  can't  tell  you?" 

"Oh,  you  can!"  came  from  Ramsey's  dark  corner. 
"  But — with  the  whole  boat  in  your  care — we  oughtn't 
to  ask  you  things  we  don't  have  to  know." 

"Lard!  belch  it  out,"  urged  the  innocent  Ned,  tak 
ing  her  in  earnest;  but  again  she  was  silent. 

"Well?  "said  Hugh. 

"Oh,  well,  are  there  many — ?  Oh,  it  ain't  impor 
tant." 

"Why,  missy,"  muttered  old  Joy,  "you's  dess 
natchiully  bleeds  to  ax  it  now." 

"Yes,  dear,"  said  the  parson's  wife,  "let's  have  it." 
361 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Well — are  there  many — ?  Oh,  it's  not — are  there 
— are  there  many  kangaroos  on  Kangaroo  Point?" 

At  any  outer  edge  of  civilization  a  joke  may  be  as 
hard  and  practical  as  ship's  bread,  yet  pass.  Amid 
the  general  mirth  and  while  Hugh  pulled  a  bell  cord 
which  made  no  jingle  down  in  the  engine-room  and 
had  never  before  been  observed  by  Ramsey,  his  reply 
was  prompt  and  brief  but  too  gently  solemn  for  her 
ear;  and  when  she  got  Mrs.  So-and-so  to  repeat  it  to 
her  it  was  merely  to  the  effect  that,  though  kanga 
roos  were  few  on  Kangaroo  Point,  she  ought  to  see  the 
wealth  of  horseshoes  in  Horseshoe  Cut-off. 

Oh,  kind  answer!  that  excused  her  frivolity  by  shar 
ing  it.  Kind  beyond  her  utmost  merit.  She  did  not 
say  so,  but  she  thought  it,  sitting  dumb,  in  sudden 
tears,  and  burning  with  shame  for  her  blindness  to  the 
hour's  fearful  realities.  While  Ned  stepped  to  Wat 
son's  side  to  speak  critically  of  the  Antelope,  now  shin 
ing  on  their  starboard  bow,  Hugh,  near  the  door, 
dropped  a  quiet  request  to  the  two  or  three  other  oc 
cupants  of  the  bench  and  they  followed  him  out. 

"Why  do  they  go?"  she  asked,  fancying  them  as 
much  appalled  at  her  as  she  herself  was,  and  when  the 
sweet  lady  could  not  enlighten  her  the  pilots  offered  a 
guess  that  two  had  gone  to  relieve  Mrs.  Gilmore  and 
her  maid  and  that  Hugh  would  presently  join  the  first 
clerk  by  the  bell. 

"There  he  is  now,"  said  Ned,  actually  expecting  her 
to  rise  and  look  down.  But  she  sat  still  and  watched 
the  Antelope,  wishing  her  far  better  speed  in  view  of 

362 


KANGAROO  POINT 

the  letters  she  carried.  So  came  thoughts  of  the  long 
telegraphic  despatch  to  her  father  which  Hugh  must 
by  this  time  have  written  for  her  mother,  as  agreed 
between  them,  and  which  was  to  be  sent,  in  the  morn 
ing,  from  Memphis. 

The  door  opened  and  Mrs.  Gilmore  and  "Harriet" 
came  in. 

"Well,"  softly  inquired  the  actor's  wife,  "how  do 
we  come  on?"  and  Ramsey  answered  as  softly,  yet 
taking  pains  that  Ned  and  Watson  should  overhear: 

"I've  disgraced  myself." 

"Mmm!"  mumbled  old  Joy  in  corroboration. 

"What  have  you  done  now?" 

"Nothing.  I  don't  do  anything.  Only  said  some 
thing,  something  so  silly  I  can't  even  apologize." 

"To  whom?" 

"The  baby  elephant,"  said  Ramsey  and  laughed  a 
note  or  two.  The  door  opened  again  and  Hugh's  bell 
call  was  explained  by  the  entrance  of  the  texas  tender 
and  another  white-jacket,  each  bearing  a  large  tray 
of  cups  and  plates,  hot  coffee,  and  hot  toasted  rolls 
and  butter.  She  hadn't  dreamed  she  was  so  hungry. 

Watson  stared  back  from  the  wheel  with  grim  pre 
tence  of  surprise.  "Who  sent  that  here?" 

"Mr.  Hugh  Co'teney  sawnt  it,  suh,"  said  the  tender, 
arranging  the  cups  on  the  bench.  "Yass'm,"  he  re 
peated  to  the  grateful  ladies,  "Mr.  Hugh,  yass'm." 

"Oh!  Mr.  Hugh,"  replied  Watson.  "He  must  'a' 
gave  you  the  order  before  he  come  up  here  this  last 
time." 

363 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"  Yass,  suh,  but  say  don't  fetch  it  tell  he  ring." 

"Six  cups,"  counted  the  pilot,  "six —  You  go  down 
with  Miss  Hayle's  compliments  to  Mr.  Courteney, 
and " 

"No-o-o-o!"  sang  Ramsey,  running  up  the  scale. 

But  Watson  was  firm.  "  Boy,  you  heard  me,  didn't 
you?" 

Ned,  with  his  eyes  down  on  the  bell,  interposed: 
"Hold  on,  Wats',  three  into  one  you  can't.  Hugh's 
in  a  confab  with  the  senator  and  the  general." 

Ramsey,  eating  like  a  hunter  come  home,  suddenly 
stood.  "Now  look,  everybody,  at  the  Antelope. 
She's  right  abeam.  Ain't  she  abeam,  Mr.  Watson?" 

Watson  drawled  that  she  wasn't  anything  else,  and 
Ramsey  failed  to  see  that  he  saw  her  cast  an  anxious 
glance  down  to  the  bell  and  the  captain's  chair  be 
yond  it. 


364 


L 
"DELTA  WILL  DO" 

IN  Horseshoe  Cut-off  the  course  was  east.  When 
Ned  directed  Ramsey's  sight  to  its  upper  end,  where 
the  flood  came  into  view  from  the  north,  she  feared  he 
would  name  the  point  it  turned;  but  he  forbore  and 
she  gazed  on  the  thin  old  moon  off  in  the  southeast. 

"Make  out  yan  bunch  o'  sycamores?"  was  his 
nearest  venture.  The  sycamores  were  on  the  point. 
Across  the  river  where  it  ran  concealed  beyond  those 
sycamores — he  went  on  to  tell — at  the  up-stream  end 
of  a  low  pencil  stroke  of  forest  between  the  head  of 
the  cut-off  and  the  eastern  stars,  was  another  turn, 
Friar's  Point.  But  her  interest  in  points  had  faded, 
and  whether  friars  abounded  on  that  one  or  not  she 
took  pains  not  to  inquire. 

Instead,  she  was  about  to  ask  the  cause  of  a  strange 
silvering  in  the  sky  close  over  the  black  pencil  stroke, 
when,  as  on  Sunday,  the  morning  star  sprang  into 
view  and  cast  its  tremulous  beam  on  the  waters.  She 
gazed  on  the  white  splendor  as  genuinely  enthralled 
as  ever,  though  at  the  same  time  her  eye  easily,  eagerly 
took  in  the  first  clerk,  the  senator,  the  general,  and 
Hugh,  standing  about  the  captain's  empty  chair. 
They  loomed  as  dimly  as  the  sycamores,  yet  when  a 

365 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

fifth  figure  drew  near  them  she  knew  by  his  fine  gait 
that  it  was  the  actor,  relieved  from  the  captain's  sick 
room  by  "California"  and  the  cub  pilot.  A  gesture 
from  Hugh  stopped  him  some  yards  off  and  he  stood 
leaning  on  the  bell. 

For  the  actor  was  their  theme.  This  was  plain  to 
every  one  in  the  pilot-house,  the  two  waiters  being 
gone.  A  remnant  of  the  food  was  being  consumed  by 
"Harriet"  and  Joy.  All  the  others  were  observing, 
like  Ramsey,  the  morning  star  and  the  five  men  under 
it.  Among  her  own  and  Mrs.  Gilmore's  draperies 
Ramsey  found  that  lady's  hand.  Except  a  few  low 
words  between  the  pilots,  conversation  failed.  With 
out  leave-taking  Ned  left.  Presently  here  he  was  be 
neath,  on  the  skylight  roof,  and  now  he  joined  the 
actor.  Ramsey  let  go  the  caressed  hand  and  moved 
nearer  to  Watson.  While  he  and  she  gazed  far  up  the 
stream,  yet  watched  the  six  men  below,  he  repeated 
Ned's  question. 

"See  that  clump  o'  big  sycamores  a  mite  to  lab- 
board  o'  where  we're  p'inted?" 

She  didn't  believe  she  did. 

"Well,"  he  persisted,  "that's  it." 

"That's  what?" 

"Why,"  said  Watson,  whose  only  aim  was  to  set 
her  once  more  at  ease,  "that's  the  p'int  you " 

"Humph."  She  turned  to  the  two  ladies,  who,  with 
their  eyes  frankly  below,  were  counselling  together. 
"Let's  go  down  there  ourselves,"  she  said,  but  they 
whispered  on. 

366 


"DELTA  WILL  DO" 

"Better  not,"  put  in  Watson;  "you  can't  help." 

His  kind  intent  did  not  keep  the  words  from  hurt 
ing.  With  a  faint  toss  she  said: 

"I  hoped  we  might  be  some  hindrance." 

She  laughed  in  her  old  manner,  dropped  her  glance 
again  on  the  two  men  and  the  four,  and  hearkened.  So 
did  the  two  ladies  beside  her.  They  could  all  see  who 
spoke  below  and  could  hear  each  voice  in  turn,  though 
they  could  not  catch  what  was  said.  The  only  sus 
tained  speeches  were  the  senator's.  The  general's  in 
terpellations  were  little  regarded.  The  silent  pair  at 
the  bell  heard  everything  of  essential  bearing. 

The  consciously  belated  senator  had  begun  with 
rhetorical  regrets  for  the  captain's  and  the  commodore's 
illness  and  with  paternal  enthusiasm  for  those  on  whom 
it  had  brought  such  grave  new  cares.  His  own  sym 
pathetic  share  in  their  anxieties,  he  had  hurried  on  to 
say,  had  robbed  him  of  sleep  and  driven  him  up  here 
solely  for  this  interview.  On  the  way  he  had  chanced 
upon  the  general  in  the 

"Sssame  ffframe  of  mind,"  the  general  had  said, 
while  the  senator  pressed  as  straight  on  as  the  Votaress. 

As  far  as  the  interests  involved  were  private  to 
this  boat,  he  said,  her  officers  and  owners  were  entitled 
to  keep  them  so  and  to  be  let  alone  in  the  management 
of  them.  But  when  that  management  became  by 
its  nature  a  vital  part  of  an  acute  public  problem — 
a  national  political  issue — he  felt  bound,  both  as  the 
Courteneys'  private  well-wisher  and  as  a  public  serv 
ant,  to  urge  such  treatment  of  the  matter  as  its  na- 

367 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

tional  importance  demanded.  A  spark,  he  said,  might 
burn  a  city!  A  question  of  private  ownership  not 
worth  a  garnishee  might  set  a  whole  nation  afire!  The 
arrival  of  Gilmore  at  the  bell  threw  him  into  a  sudden 
heat: 

"My  God!  Mr.  Courteney— Mr.  clerk— I  shan't 
offer  to  lay  hands  on  any  man;  not  I.  All  I  ask  is  that 
you  take  yours  off — of  three.  My  dear  sirs,  equally  as 
your  true  friend  and  as  a  lover  of  our  troubled  coun 
try  I  beg  you  to  liberate  those  citizens  of  the  sovereign 
State  of  Arkansas  whom  you  hold  in  unlawful  duress, 
and  to  hear  before  witnesses  the  plea  they  regard  as 
righteous  and  of  national  concern." 

The  sight  of  Ned  joining  Gilmore  heated  him  again: 
"  Gentlemen,  if  you  will  do  that,  now,  at  once,  you 
will  save  the  fortunes  of  this  superb  boat,  her  honored 
owners,  and  their  fleet.  If  you  don't  you  wreck  them 
forever  before  this  day  dawns.  And  you  may — great 
heavens,  gentlemen,  you  may  see  the  first  bloodshed  of 
sectional  strife." 

"K-' tional  ssstrife!"  growled  the  general. 

The  clerk  smiled.  "Why,  senator,  those  men  don't 
go  beyond  Helena.  They  leave  us  there,  before  sun- 
up." 

"Precisely,  sir!  And  if  they're  not  set  free  before 
you  enter  Helena  Reach,  or  even  pass  Friar's  Point, 
you  may  as  well  not  free  them  at  all." 

Hugh  glanced  at  the  clerk  as  if  to  speak.  The 
clerk  nodded  and  in  the  pilot-house  they  saw  Hugh 
begin : 

368 


"DELTA  WILL  DO" 

"Mr.  Senator,  suppose  we  do  that?" 

"  You  would  do  me  honor,  sir,  and  yourselves  more." 

"Of  course  the  watchmen  of  this  boat  watch." 

As  Hugh  said  this  the  cub  pilot  came  from  the  cap 
tain's  room  with  some  word  to  Gilmore,  who,  though 
yearning  to  stay,  left  him  and  Ned  and  hastened  back 
to  the  texas. 

Meantime  the  senator:  "I  should  hope  so,  sir.  I 
hope  every  one  on  watch  watches,  sir." 

"They  do.  And  so  we  know  that  you  and  the  gen 
eral  know,  perfectly,  that  the  same  men  who  want 
those  three  released  want  Mr.  Gilmore  put  ashore. 
Is  that  your  wish,  too?" 

"It  is,  sssir,"  put  in  the  general  while  the  senator 
did  some  rapid  thinking.  Now  he  too  replied : 

"Mm — no,  sir,  it  is  not.     And  yet — yes,  sir,  it  is." 

"Then  you  would  advise  us  to  do  that  also?" 

"I  would  advise  you  to  do  that  also." 

"Why?" 

"Good  Lord!  my  young  friend,  to  save  you!  you, 
your  father,  grandfather,  boats,  all,  and  Mr.  Gilmore 
himself!" 

"How  about  his  wife?" 

"And  his  wife.  For  her  to  be  with  him  may  help 
him  if  he  goes.  It  can't  if  he  stays."  The  speaker 
had  let  his  voice  rise.  The  pilot-house  group  caught 
his  words.  Also  they  saw  the  cub  pilot  detain  Ned 
when  he  started  forward. 

"Let's  go  down  there  ourselves,"  repeated  Ramsey; 
but  the  parson's  wife  had  whisperingly  laid  both  hands 

369 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

on  the  wife  of  the  actor,  and  Ramsey  chafed  to  no 
avail. 

The  senator's  voice  dropped  again.  "Good  God, 
sir,  you  know  the  longer  they're  aboard  the  worse  it 
will  be  for  them,  and  they've  got  to  go  some  time  or 
at  Louisville  a  mob  will  burn  the  Votaress  to  the  wa 
ter's  edge  with  them  on  her." 

The  two  stared  at  each  other,  the  senator's  mind 
bewailing  the  loss  of  each  golden  moment.  The  night 
was  not  too  dark  to  show  him  the  poker  face  fitting  its 
nickname  insufferably.  But  not  until  its  owner  spoke 
again  did  he  frown — to  hide  an  exultant  surprise. 

"They  could  leave  their  maid,  you  think,  with 
Madame  Hayle?"  was  Hugh's  astonishing  inquiry. 
The  senator  had  expected  of  him  nothing  short  of  a 
grim  defiance. 

"They  could — they  can,"  replied  both  he  and  the 
soldier.  "That'll  satisfy  everybody."  The  general 
saw  only  the  surface  of  the  proposition  but  the  senator 
perceived  in  it  all  the  opportunity  their  two  modest 
accomplices  of  the  boiler  deck  asked.  That  pair  and 
their  adherents — not  followers — you  wouldn't  catch 
them  leading — they  and  their  gathering  adherents 
would  construe  the  landing  of  the  players  as  an  at 
tempt  to  deliver  them  out  of  their  hands  and  would 
undertake  to  seize  and  maltreat  the  actor,  at  least, 
the  moment  he  should  be  off  the  boat.  That  they 
were  likely  to  fail  was  little  to  the  senator;  there 
would  be  a  tumult,  so  managed  as  to  bring  Hugh  to 
the  actor's  rescue,  and  in  the  fracas  Hugh  was  sure  of 

370 


"DELTA  WILL  DO" 

a  hammering  he  would  not  only  never  forget  but  would 
discern  that  he  owed,  first  and  last,  to  him,  the  sen 
ator. 

Hugh  glanced  at  the  clerk.  "You  had  just  recom 
mended  Delta  Landing."  The  clerk  nodded  and  he 
turned  back  to  the  senator.  "We'll  be  there  inside 
of  half  an  hour." 

"Delta  will  do,"  said  the  senator,  his  frown  growing. 

Hugh  nodded  to  the  clerk.  The  clerk  looked  over 
to  Ned. 

"Think  Delta's  above  water?" 

"Oh — eyes  and  nose  out,  Watson  allows." 

"Delta'll  be  all  right,"  persisted  the  senator. 

The  clerk  glanced  up  to  the  pilot-house.  "Mr. 
Watson,  we'll  stop  at  Delta,  to  put  off  a  couple  o' 
passengers." 

"Yes,  sir."  The  group  at  the  pilot's  back  gasped 
at  each  other.  Then  Ramsey  gasped  at  him. 

"Oh,  what  does  that  mean?"  she  demanded.  But 
his  gaze  remained  up  the  river  as  he  kindly  replied : 

"What  it  says,  I  reckon.  Don't  fret,  ladies — when 
you  don't  know  what  to  do,  don't  do  it." 

"Ho-o-oh!"  cried  Ramsey,  whisking  away,  "I  will!" 

"Lawd  'a'  massy!"  Old  Joy  sprang  for  the  door, 
but  Ramsey  was  already  out  on  the  steps  and  scurry 
ing  down  them.  On  the  texas  roof,  however,  she  took 
a  wrong  direction  and  lost  time;  slipped  forward  round 
the  pilot-house  counting  on  steps  which  were  not,  and 
never  had  been,  out  there.  Returning  she  lost  more 
by  meeting  old  Joy  in  the  narrow  way  between  the 

371 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

house  and  the  edge  of  the  texas  roof,  and  when  at 
length  she  sprang  away  for  the  after  end  of  the  texas 
and  the  only  stair  she  was  now  sure  of,  whom  should 
she  espy  bound  thither  ahead  of  her  but  Mrs.  Gilmore. 
In  that  order  the  three  hurried  down  to  the  guards  of 
the  texas  and  forward  along  them  by  its  stateroom 
doors. 

Meantime,  out  at  the  bell  the  clerk  had  left  Hugh 
and  privately  sent  Ned  and  the  cub  pilot  different 
ways.  Hugh  moved  a  pace  or  two  aside  to  observe 
the  Antelope  out  on  their  larboard  quarter.  The 
senator  and  the  general  moved  with  him. 

"She'll  pass  you  again  at  Delta,"  remarked  the 
senator.  "You  see,  general — you  see,  Mr.  Courteney, 
— at  Delta  they"  (the  players)  "can  very  plausibly 
explain — there  won't  be  more  than  two  or  three,  if 
any,  to  explain  to — that  they're  running  from  the 
cholera  and  want  to  hail  the  Westwood,  which  they 
won't  more  than  just  have  time  to  do. 

"She  won't  mind  taking  them,"  he  babbled  on, 
"already  having  the  cholera  herself.  Not  many  up- 
river  boats  would  answer  a  hail  from  Delta,  but  she 
will,  for  she'll  see  they're  from  this  boat  and  that  it's 
your  wish.  There  she  comes  round  the  bend  now. 
Yes,  Delta's  a  lot  safer  for  'em  than  Helena  with  its 
wharf-boat  and  daylight  crowd  and  those  three  red- 
hots  going  ashore  with  'em.  On  the  Westwood  they 
can  put  up  with  any  yarn  that'll  carry  'em  through. 
They're  actors  and  used  to  that  sort  o'  thing." 

Musingly  Hugh  broke  in :  "  Counting  all  the  chances, 
372 


"DELTA  WILL  DO" 

isn't  there  a  touch  of  cruelty  in  this,  to  the  lady  at 
least?" 

"Oh,  now,  my  young  friend — "  the  senator  began 
to  rejoin,  but  two  men  lounging  by  stopped  to  ask 
after  the  father  and  grandfather.  They  were  the 
second  engineer  and  his  striker,  presently  to  go  on 
watch. 

Mrs.  Gilmore,  coming  along  the  texas  guards,  met 
the  cub  pilot.  He  perched  on  the  railing  to  let  her 
pass  and  a  few  strides  farther  on  began  to  do  the  same 
for  Ramsey. 


373 


LI 
LOVING-KINDNESS 

RAMSEY  stopped  and  the  boy's  heart  rose  into  his 
throat. 

"Whe're  you  going?"  she  asked. 

He  pointed  to  a  lighted  door  she  had  just  come  by. 

"First  mate's  room/'  he  said. 

"To  tell  him  what  to  do?" 

"Yes'm."  He  slid  along  the  rail  to  get  by  her, 
though  hungry  to  linger. 

"To  do  what?"  she  asked.  "I  know;  to  bring  out 
John  the  Baptist  and  those  other  two  men?" 

"Yes'm."  He  backed  off,  but  the  compelling  power 
of  interrogatory,  especially  of  hers,  retarded  him. 

"To  turn  'em  loose?"  she  asked. 

He  smiled  ruefully.     "It  looks  like  it." 

"Not  with  their  pistols  on  them?" 

"Oh,  no,  he's  got  their  pistols." 

"How'dheget  'em?" 

"Oh — friendly  persuasion.  He's  fine  at  that. 
They'll  get  'em  back — unloaded — when  they  land." 

She  glanced  forward  after  Mrs.  Gilmore,  and  he 
sprang  away.  As  the  actor's  wife  neared  the  cap 
tain's  door  it  opened  and  Gilmore  himself  came  out, 
closing  it  after  him  warily.  Either  the  captain  was 

374 


LOVING-KINDNESS 

worse,  Ramsey  guessed,  or  the  actor  had  received  some 
startling  message,  so  grave  and  hurried  were  the 
players.  They  moved  several  paces  away  and  stepped 
down  to  the  hurricane-deck.  She  let  them  converse 
a  moment  alone.  At  the  same  time  the  second  en 
gineer,  his  striker,  and  Ned  passed  close  and  went 
below.  Now  Ramsey  advanced,  addressing  the  pair 
in  a  smothered  voice: 

"It's  monstrous!  It  shan't  be!  It  shan't  be  done! 
You  shan't  go!"  The  signal  for  landing  tolled.  She 
stopped  short. 

But  the  cause  of  her  silence  was  Hugh  Courteney, 
close  before  her.  Mrs.  Gilmore  tried  to  draw  her 
back  but  she  stood  fast,  repeating  to  him  savagely: 
"It  shan't  be!  It  shan't  be  done!  You  shan't  do 
it!" 

Again  she  ceased,  as  the  senator  and  the  general  ap 
peared,  not  with  Hugh  though  from  his  direction,  but, 
like  Ned  and  his  fellows,  bound  below.  With  a  side 
step  she  brought  them  to  a  stand,  saying  once  more 
to  them: 

"It   shan't  be!     It   shan't   be   done!     You  shan't 


Both  Hugh  and  Gilmore  lifted  a  hand.  There  was 
a  reply  on  the  lips  of  each,  but  Hugh's  remained  un- 
uttered.  He  glanced  to  the  actor,  saying:  "Tell  it." 

The  actor  told.  "It  is  not  going  to  be  done,"  he 
said.  "No  owner  of  this  boat,  no  officer,  has  ever 
promised,  ordered,  or  intended  it." 

Ludicrously,  from  the  well  of  the  neighboring  stair, 
375 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

the  heads  of  Hayle's  twins  rose  and  remained  gazing. 
Fortunately  for  the  dignity  of  the  moment  they  es 
caped  the  eye  of  Ramsey,  who,  on  highest  tiptoe,  while 
the  actor  still  spoke,  was  piping  incredulously: 

"The  clerk  said  it! — two  passengers! — to  go  ashore!'* 

"He  might  have  said  five,"  Hugh  gravely  answered, 
while  the  senator  and  the  general  blazed  with  aston 
ishment. 

"Five,"  he  repeated  directly  to  the  senator;  "the 
three  whose  release  you  demanded  and  those  two 
scamps  you  made  league  with  a  bit  ago  on  the  boiler 
deck." 

The  senator  was  a  conflagration.  "Sir,  I  cannot 
find !" 

"Words?"  Hugh  softly  interrupted.  "That's  for 
tunate.  If  you  do  you'll  be  landed  on  the  next  is 
land." 

He  turned  away  and  moved  to  the  edge  of  the  roof. 
Ramsey  stared  at  the  three  and  fell  back  to  the  Gil- 
mores,  whose  manner,  as  they  returned  half-way  to 
the  sick-room,  was  more  grave  and  hurried  than  before. 
The  engine  bells  were  jingling,  the  wheels  stopped. 
At  the  roof's  edge,  well  forward  of  Hugh,  appeared  the 
first  clerk,  giving  commands.  The  shore  trees  glided 
spectrally  into  the  firelight  of  the  steamer's  torch 
baskets.  A  solitary  man  stood  on  the  bank.  The 
morning  star  was  fading  into  the  daybreak.  In  the 
pilot-house  Watson  pulled  his  bell-ropes  to  back  and 
to  stop  again,  while  veiled  in  its  lingering  dusk  be 
tween  him  and  the  parson's  wife  "Harriet"  stood  at 

376 


LOVING-KINDNESS 

a  closed  window,  a  vigilant  watcher  of  every  move 
ment  below. 

With  the  usual  deck-hand  on  its  outer  end  the  stage 
hung  half  its  length  over  the  narrowing  water.  On 
its  inboard  half,  attended  at  one  side  by  the  first  mate 
and  at  their  backs  by  a  knot  of  white-jackets  with 
hands  and  arms  full  of  baggage,  waited  the  exhorter, 
his  two  champions,  and  the  sporting  pair,  outwardly 
well  content,  however  large  or  dark  the  retributions 
they  were  inwardly  promising  themselves.  The  twins 
had  come  up  from  the  stair,  meeting  the  senator  and 
the  general  and  holding  them  in  a  close  counsel  that 
kept  the  four  scowling.  These  things  the  maid  at 
Watson's  side  noted  so  intently  as  almost  to  forget 
him  and  the  lady  next  her.  She  marked  the  actor  go 
once  more  into  the  captain's  room,  the  Californian 
come  out  to  Mrs.  Gilmore  and  Ramsey,  and  the  three 
move  toward  Hugh  with  old  Joy  in  their  wake.  Be 
fore  they  had  quite  reached  him  he  turned  and  ad 
dressed  the  actor's  wife.  She  drew  back  apologeti 
cally,  the  Californian  doing  the  same,  but  by  word 
and  sign  seemed  to  bid  Ramsey  stay  and  speak  for  her. 

As  if  to  himself,  but  really  to  the  two  beside  him, 
Watson  murmured :  "  Right  you  air,  Mr.  Hugh  Courte- 
ney." 

"How  is  he  right?"  asked  the  lady,  though  she  most 
likely,  and  the  maid  certainly,  understood. 

"He's  telling  her,"  said  the  pilot,  "that  it'll  sim 
plify  matters  for  her  and  her  husband  and  this  girl 
here  to  sort  o'  keep  out  o'  the  limelight  a  spell." 

377 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

The  surmise  seemed  good,  for  Mrs.  Gilmore  and 
"California"  took  stand  where  the  great  chimney  on 
that  side  hid  them  from  forecastle  and  shore,  while 
they  still  could  see  Hugh  and  Ramsey  conversing,  she 
pleadingly,  he  with  few  words,  mostly  negatives.  Ned 
came  back  into  the  pilot-house.  The  parsDn's  wife 
moved  from  Watson  toward  him  to  ask  in  undertone 
why  the  landing  was  being  made  so  slowly.  The  boat 
seemed  to  hover  and  hesitate.  Watson,  at  the  wheel, 
talked  on,  pretending  not  to  notice  that  the  maid  was 
his  only  listener. 

"A  man,"  he  drawled,  "gets  to  hear  a  right  smart 
chance  with  his  eyes,  in  a  pilot-house.  Puts  two  an* 
two  together  a  lot  more'n  he  does  when  he's  a-usin'  his 
y-ears.  Now  she's  a-beggin'  him" — meaning  Ramsey 
and  Hugh — "  not  to  drop  them  fellows  ashore.  Partly 
that's  for  the  fellows'  own  sakes,  but  likewise  it's  also 
for  the  play-actors,  because  they're  generous,  like  her, 
and  because,  no  less,  it's  a-putt'n'  the  play-actors 
themselves  in  a  right  funny  fix  with  the  rest  o'  this 
vain  world,  to  make  five  Jonahs  on  their  account. 
But  she's  a-barkin'  up  the  wrong  stump  an'  she  knows 
it.  She  knows  there's  somebody  else's  account  they're 
bein'  put  off  for;  somebody  she's  as  friendly  to  as  what 
he  is,  and  which  for  their  sakes — his  and  hern — if  for 
no  other — I'm  as  friendly  to  as  what  they  air.  Pro- 
vid'n',  however,  that  that  somebody  is  as  friendly  to 
them,  every  way,  as  what  I  am."  He  turned  sharply. 
"Is  she?" 

And  "Harriet"  looked  straight  into  his  eyes  and 
said  inaudibly:  "Yes." 

378 


LOVING-KINDNESS 

As  the  glance  of  both  returned  to  the  scene  below 
she  was  mindful  that  Ned  had  not  yet  quite  satisfied 
the  query  of  the  lady  at  his  elbow,  why  the  wheels  of 
the  Votaress  were  turning  barely  enough  to  keep  her 
from  drifting. 

"You  see  the  Antelope?"  he  asked. 

She  saw  the  Antelope,  once  more  ahead,  swan-white 
in  the  new  daylight  on  a  great  breadth  of  water  which 
she  had  earlier  heard  him  tell  Ramsey  was  Monte- 
zuma  Bend. 

"And  you  see  the  Westwood  down  yonder.  Well, 
when  she  gets  up  there  we'll  stop  killin'  time.  But 
why  we're  killin'  it — ask  the  clerk — or  guess.  It's 
dead  easy." 

Not  given  to  guessing,  she  dropped  her  eyes  again 
on  the  various  groups  beneath  with  Hugh  and  Ramsey 
central  among  them  and  did  not  even  see  that  Hugh 
was  answering  the  same  riddle  from  Ramsey. 

"Because  if  we  keep  these  men  aboard  a  few 
minutes  longer,"  he  was  saying,  "there'll  be  no  way 
for  them  to  reach  Helena  before  noon  to-morrow, 
when  we'll  be " 

'  'Way  beyond  Memphis,"  said  the  river-wise  Ram 
sey. 

"Yes." 

"And  they  can't  send  any  troublesome  word  up  the 
river  that  can  overtake  us,"  she  ventured  on,  and  he 
assented. 

"And  may  I  tell  the  Gilmores  that's  as  much  for 
Phyllis  as  for  them?" 

379 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"  I  wish  you  would — and  then  would  go  to  your  rest." 

"Humph/'  she  faintly  soliloquized  and  with  no 
other  rejoinder  remained  looking  down  on  the  stage, 
as  he  did.  It  was  so  near  the  bank  at  last  that  the 
men  waiting  on  its  inner  end  moved  a  step  or  two  for 
ward. 

"Why  are  all  those  five  put  off  together?"  she 
asked. 

"Because,"  he  replied  in  his  absent  manner,  "the 
gamblers  will  try  to  keep  the  other  three  quiet." 

"Mr.  Hugh,  you'll  be  off  watch  now  soon,  won't 

you?" 

"Yes."     (Still  no  lifting  of  eyes  by  either.) 

"And  then  you'll  nurse  your  father,  won't  you?" 

"I  cannot!     I'm  too  ignorant." 

"Then  what  will  you — shall  you — do?" 

"Just  stay — on  watch." 

She  stood  a  moment  more,  comforted  to  be  on  watch 
with  him  and  thinking  sadly  of  all  there  was  to  be  on 
watch  for.  Then  she  heard  Julian  softly  call  her 
name.  Without  looking  his  way  she  started  back  for 
Mrs.  Gilmore  and  the  gold  hunter,  but  the  brother 
overtook  her. 

"Ramsey."  She  faced  him.  "Ramsey"— his  tone 
was  thin — "  when  you  were  talking  just  now  with  that 
pusillanimous  whelp,  and  neither  of  you  looking  at  the 
other,  did  he  say  anything  of  a  confidential  nature?" 

His  scrutiny  read  confirmation  in  her  fearless  eyes. 
When  she  would  have  spoken  her  utterance  failed  and, 
unable  to  do  anything  else  half  so  well,  she  laughed. 

380 


LOVING-KINDNESS 

"You  can  still  do  that!"    His  hint  was  of  Basile. 

"A  little,"  she  tinkled  again,  though  her  eyes  ran 
full. 

"Ramsey,  did  he — over  there — just  now — that  rep 
tile — say  anything — tender?" 

She  flared  rose-red,  gazed  down  ashore,  dropped  her 
voice  to  a  key  he  had  never  heard,  and  said,  wonder 
ing  why  she  said  it:  "Mr.  Courteney  is  a  gentle 
man." 

She  tried  to  lift  her  eyes  to  the  inquisitor,  but  her 
irrepressible  twitter  came  again  and  she  had  to  turn 
away  to  the  big  chimney.  He  clinched  his  teeth. 

"Sis,"  he  half  whispered  as  she  began  to  go,  "lis 
ten."  She  glanced  back.  "Sis,  you  may  snigger  at 
us  all  day  or  ten  days;  you  may  listen  to  him  for  a 
year  or  for  ten;  but,  no  matter  what  we  swore  to  last 
night,  the  day  you  accept  Hugh  Courteney's  hand 
we'll  kill  him  if  we're  alive." 

Old  Joy  flinched  and  moaned  but  Ramsey  stared  at 
him  benumbed.  She  caught  no  rational  grasp  of  his 
meaning;  only  stood  and  with  immeasurable  speed 
and  a  kind  of  earthquake  sickness,  in  the  space  of  one 
long  breath,  dreamed  his  words  over  and  over.  She 
felt  neither  fright  nor  horror,  as  she  would  as  soon  as 
thought  could  clear.  Yet  one  word  shed  light,  quick 
ened  her  inner  vision  and  gave  it  a  reach,  a  forward 
range,  it  had  never  known.  "Ten  years,"  he  had  said, 
and  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  as  one  might  come 
suddenly  into  some  vast  possession,  she  took  the  fu 
ture  into  her  present  by  years  instead  of  days. 

"Jule,"  called  Lucian,  from  between  the  senator 

381 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

and  the  general.  Julian  glanced  back  and  Ramsey 
started  off.  But  she  stopped  again  with  a  fresh  shock 
as  a  high-pitched  yell  rose  from  the  shore  below. 
There  the  exhorter,  stepping  from  the  stage  to  the 
ground,  had  poured  his  voice  into  the  woods  and  now 
turned  to  the  boat  and  let  loose  his  tongue: 

"I'm  the  hewolf  an'  wilecat  o'  th'  'Azoo  Delta! 
I'm  the  alligatoh  an'  snappin'  turkle  o'  the  Arkansass! 
I'm  the  horn-ed  an'  yalleh-belly  catfish  o'  the  Missis- 
sip'!  Glory,  hallelu'!  the  sunburnt,  chill-an'-feveh, 
rip-saw,  camp-meetin',  buckshot,  kickin'-mule  civili 
zation  whah-in  I  got  my  religion  is  good  enough  fo' 
me,  all  high-steppin',  niggeh-stealin'  play-actohs  an' 
flounced  and  friskin',  beau-ketchered  Natchez  brick- 
tops  to  the  contrary  notwithstayndin' !  For  I'm  a 
meek  an'  humble  follower  o'  the  Lawd  Gawd  A'mighty, 
which  may  the  same  eternally  an'  ee-sentially  damn 
yo'  cowa'dly  soul,  you  stump-tail'  little  Hugh  Co'te- 
ney  up  yandeh  with  yo'  Gawd-fo'sakened,  punkin 
face  an'  yo'  sawed-off  statu'e!" 

The  gamblers  sprang  to  hush  him  but  the  two  "Ar 
kansas  killers"  stepped  between  and  while  the  Votaress, 
backing  out  into  the  wake  of  the  Westwood,  left  the 
one  pair  insisting  and  the  other  protesting,  the  ex 
horter  settled  the  issue  by  breaking  into  song: 

' '  Though  num'r-ous  hosts  uv  migh-tye  foes, 
Though  airth  an'  hell,  my  way  op-pose, 
He  safe-lye  leadns  my  soudl  aa-logn: 
His  lov-ign-kide-ness,  oh,  how  strogn! 

His  lov-ign-kide-ness!  lov-ign-kide-ness! 

His  lov-ign-ki-i-i-ide-ness,  oh,  how  strogn!'  " 

382 


LII 
LOVE  RUNS  ROUGH  BUT  RUNS  ON 

TURNING  east  in  the  upper  arm  of  Saint  Francis 
Bend,  with  the  mouth  of  Saint  Francis  River  just 
swinging  out  of  sight  astern  and  Helena  an  hour's 
run  behind,  the  Votaress  faced  the  rising  sun. 

Before  the  eyes  of  Hugh  and  Ramsey  it  soared 
gloriously  into  a  sky  reddened  not  by  presage  of  rain 
but  by  the  smoke  of  the  Antelope  and  Westwood.  The 
intervening  shore  and  waters  glowed  and  quivered  in 
exquisite  tints  that  renewed  the  world's  youth  and 
quite  ignored  all  human,  especially  all  young  human, 
troubles.  Suddenly  it  lighted  up  the  black  chimneys 
and  scapes  and  white  pilot-houses  of  the  two  boats 
ahead,  as,  a  league  or  so  apart,  they  came  doubling 
back  northwest,  up  Walnut  Bend,  to  save  in  Bordeaux 
Chute  the  wide  circuit  of  Bordeaux  and  Whiskey  Is 
lands,  to  hurry  on  round  the  long  north-and-south  loop 
of  Council  Bend  and  so  have  done  with  one  of  the 
most  tortuous  forty  miles  of  the  Mississippi. 

We  mention  these  things  because  Hugh  and  Ramsey 
were  students  of  them,  now  and  then  together  but 
never  quite  comfortable  so,  and  now  and  then  apart 
but  never  quite  comfortable  so.  Everywhere  the 

383 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

boat's  people  were  awake.  On  the  freight  deck  the 
crew  squatted  in  circles,  eating  from  tubs.  Away  aft 
on  the  roof,  from  their  quarters  in  the  far  end  of  the 
texas,  the  whole  flock  of  white- jackets  had  risen  like 
gulls  and  were  down  in  the  cook-house,  pantry,  and 
cabin  rattling  the  crockery  till  it  echoed  in  every 
waking  stomach.  Already  the  Votaress's  divine  breath 
smelt  of  coffee,  real  coffee — chaud  comme  I'enfer  et 
noir  comme  le  diable — smelt  of  it,  as,  we  fear,  we  shall 
never  smell  it  again  in  this  trust-ridden  world.  It 
was  Ned's  watch  at  the  wheel.  Watson  and  his  cub 
had  turned  in.  So  had  the  first  clerk.  So  had  the 
twins,  the  senator,  the  general.  Few  of  us,  at  that 
hour,  not  having  slept,  are  skylarks. 

Yet  the  actor  and  the  Californian  still  held  vigil 
by  the  captain's  bed.  Joy  still  hovered  after  her 
"young  missy,"  and  "Harriet"  after  Mrs.  Gilmore 
and  the  parson's  wife.  Ramsey  and  "Harriet"  be 
trayed  a  vivid  interest  in  each  other,  a  wonderfully 
generous  thing  on  the  maid's  part,  Ramsey  thought, 
the  two  being  who  they  were.  The  commodore  was 
better,  but  the  captain  was  not,  and  together  or 
apart  Hugh  and  Ramsey  were  more  consciously  the 
prisoners,  albeit  the  undaunted  prisoners,  of  care  and 
sorrow  than  of  anything  else.  When  their  feeling  for 
the  river's  lore  drew  them,  by  a  spiritual  gravitation, 
to  a  common  centre — to  learn,  for  instance,  that  Coun 
cil  Bend  and  Council  Island  were  named  for  one  of 
those  historic  "confabs"  between  the  white  man  and 
the  red  which  shouldered  the  red  brother  once  and 

384 


LOVE  RUNS  ROUGH  BUT  RUNS  ON 

forever  away  from  the  sunrise  and  across  the  great 
river — that  centre  of  gravity  was  the  captain's  chair, 
their  tutor  the  first  mate. 

Under  the  circumstances  we  hardly  need  begrudge 
a  line  or  two  more  to  tell  how,  as  far  back  as  Delta, 
the  Votaress  had  begun  to  meet  the  Louisville  Satur 
day  evening  packets  and  to  receive  and  return  their 
special  salutes.  One  was  a  Hayle  boat  and  one 
a  Courteney.  Such  moments  were  refreshing.  In 
quiry  and  information  flowed  through  them  as  natu 
rally  and  beguilingly  as  a  brook  through  a  meadow 
and  gave  Hugh  opportunity  to  contemplate  inci 
dentally  the  play  of  air  and  light  in  Ramsey's  curls 
without  her  having  the  slightest  suspicion  of  him! — 
gave  her  chances  to  ply  him  with  questions  in  auto 
biography  and  social  casuistry  and  to  enjoy  keenly  the 
ridiculous  majesty  of  his  eyes  and  voice,  while  the 
two  dear  chaperons  talked  apart  as  obliviously  as  if 
she  were  merely  asking  him  how  deep  the  whiskey 
was  in  Whiskey  Chute. 

In  the  long  run  from  Commerce  to  Norfolk  came 
breakfast.  Commerce  was  another  case  of  infant- 
city  still-birth,  Norfolk  was  less.  Breakfast,  double- 
ranked,  stoop-shouldered,  mute:  beefsteak  and  fried 
onions  its  solar  centre,  with  hot  rolls  for  planets;  Hugh 
at  the  ladies'  table,  the  first  clerk  at  the  gentlemen's. 
Then  the  boiler  deck,  toothpicks,  cigars,  breezes,  arm 
chairs,  spittoons,  the  sad  news  of  the  two  deaths  up 
stairs,  the  ugly  news  of  the  five  passengers  set  ashore 
and  the  reason  thereof.  Men  spat  straight  and  hard 

385 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

as  they  heard  or  told  the  latter  item,  yet  with  tacit 
unanimity  awaited  the  re-emergence  of  the  still  se 
cluded  senator,  general,  and  twins. 

By  Hugh's  unsmiling  forethought  Madame  Hayle, 
Ramsey,  and  the  Gilmores  breakfasted  in  the  pilot 
house.  With  "Harriet"  close  to  her  elbow,  Ramsey 
ate  at  a  window,  standing,  to  watch  the  gliding  shores 
and  floods  and  privily  cross-examine,  again  in  auto 
biography  and  at  printing-press  speed,  the  willing 
maid-servant.  At  Island  Fifty-Two  another  boat,  the 
Shooting  Star,  streamed  by.  At  a  plantation  and 
wood-yard  the  Votaress  paused  to  restock  with  dairy 
and  kitchen-garden  supplies  and  to  lash  to  her  either 
side  a  thirty-cord  wood  flat,  and  now  swept  on  with 
the  foam  twenty  feet  broad  at  the  square  front  of  each 
while  the  deck-hands  trotted  aboard  under  their  great 
shoulder  loads  by  one  narrow  hook  plank  and  came 
leaping  back  for  more,  and  the  loaders  and  pilers 
chanted  and  chorussed: 

"Oh,  Shan-a-do'e,  I  loves  yo'  daught-eh — 

Ah!  ha!  roll-in'  riveh! — 
Oh,  ef  she  don't  love  me  she'd  ought  teh — 
Ah!  ha!  .  .  .  bound  away!  .  .  .  fawdewile  .  .  .  Mis-'ou-ree!" 

The  foam  and  the  swift  wooding-up  gave  an  illusion 
of  speed  to  the  boat  herself,  and  in  what  seemed  no 
time  at  all  the  empty  scows  were  dropping  away 
astern;  but  it  was  farewell  for  good  and  all  to  the 
Westwood,  the  Antelope.  And  now  Cat  Island,  its 
bend,  its  chute;  Cow  Island,  its  bend,  its  chute;  Horn 

386 


LOVE  RUNS  ROUGH  BUT  RUNS  ON 

Lake,  a  prehistoric  loop  of  twelve  miles,  reduced  to 
three  by  Horn  Lake  Bend 

"Come,  Ramsey."  The  call  smote  like  a  buffet. 
Memphis  was  almost  in  sight.  In  the  southwestern 
corner  of  Tennessee,  just  above  Tennessee  Chute  and 
the  northwestern  corner  of  Mississippi,  was  the  fourth 
of  the  Chickasaw  Bluffs.  On  it  sat  Memphis,  a  city 
with  churches,  banks,  and  the  "electromagnetic  tele 
graph."  Its  twelve  thousand  people  of  that  day  are 
a  hundred  and  thirty-five  thousand  now  and  have 
taken  in  almost  out  of  remembrance  the  small  settle 
ment  of  Pickering,  or  Fort  Pickering,  on  the  down 
stream  end  of  the  bluff,  where  the  Votaress  that  beau 
tiful  morning  landed  and  laid  to  rest  Madame  Marburg, 
the  bishop,  and  Basile. 

Aboard  the  Votaress,  as  in  Tennessee  Chute  she 
faced  again  the  morning  sun,  two  scenes  were  enacted 
at  the  same  time.  One  took  place  below,  on  the  fore 
castle;  the  other  above  and  just  aft  of  it,  on  the  boiler 
deck.  In  the  lower  there  was  but  a  single  pine  box,  in 
the  upper  there  were  two.  In  the  lower  stood  the 
black-gowned  priest,  the  two  white-bonneted,  gray- 
robed  sisters,  Otto  Marburg  alone,  and  here  a  mass  of 
immigrants  and  there  a  majority  of  the  crew.  The 
upper  scene  included  all  the  cabin  passengers — ladies 
seated — and  half  the  boat's  family.  In  fulfilment  of 
Basile's  wish  Hugh  read:  "I  am  the  resurrection  and 
the  life."  By  Hugh's  invitation,  given  beforehand, 
the  senator  delivered  a  eulogy  on  the  bishop  and  added 
such  tender  praises  of  the  boy,  whom  every  one  had 

387 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

liked  so  early  and  so  well,  and  gilded  them  with  such 
delicate  allusions  to  the  heroism  of  his  mother,  that 
few  eyes  were  dry.  The  very  twins  wept,  though  there 
was  a  touch  of  rage  in  their  tears.  By  choice  of  the 
parson's  wife  and  sweetly  led  by  her,  they  sang:  "I 
would  not  live  alway."  With  streaming  eyes  Ramsey 
remembered  how  yearningly  the  poor  lad  had  clung 
to  this  dear  earth,  and  she  could  only  sit  silent  and 
modestly  wonder  how  anybody,  under  any  fate  that 
left  them  power  to  sing  at  all,  could  sit  there — stand 
there — on  that  boat,  that  river,  in  the  splendor  of  that 
sun,  the  beauty  of  that  landscape,  and  call  life  a  "few 
lurid  mornings." 

A  third  scene  occurred  as  the  boat,  facing  westward, 
reached  the  head  of  President's  Island,  fairest  island 
in  all  the  river,  and  coming  into  full  view  of  Memphis, 
a  short  league  beyond,  tolled  her  solemn  bell  and  landed 
at  Pickering.  Others  on  the  lower  deck  besides  Ma 
dame  Marburg  had  passed  away  in  the  night  but  had 
either  been  laid  under  the  wet  sands  of  the  water's 
edge  in  some  wild  grove  down-stream  or  were  not 
quite  in  time,  so  to  speak,  for  this  landing.  Contem 
plated  from  each  deck  by  a  numerous  gathering  and 
from  the  pilot-house  by  Watson,  Mrs.  Gilmore,  and 
"Harriet,"  a  small  procession  followed  the  priest  and 
the  three  boxes — borne  by  white-jackets — ashore  and 
out  of  sight  where  a  small  wooden  church  spire,  in 
land  behind  the  bluff,  peered  over  its  crest.  Madame 
Hayle  leaned  on  Julian's  arm,  Ramsey  on  Lucian's, 
Hugh  walked  with  Marburg,  the  senator  with  the 

388 


LOVE  RUNS  ROUGH  BUT  RUNS  ON 

general,  the  first  clerk  with  Ned,  the  Californian  with 
the  cub  pilot.  By  and  by  they  returned,  outwardly 
unburdened,  and  the  moment  the  last  tread,  the  Cali- 
fornian's,  was  on  the  stage,  Watson's  bells  jingled  and 
the  Votaress  swung  out  and  moved  up  to  the  Memphis 
wharf-boat.  But  there  Hugh,  the  first  clerk,  the  stew 
ard,  and  the  doctor  went  up  into  town,  and  it  was  a 
long  hour  before  they  reappeared  and  the  black  smoke 
billowed  again  from  her  chimneys  and  she  backed  out 
and  started  up  and  away  around  "Paddy's  Hen  and 
Chickens." 

The  "family  of  that  name" — to  quote  Watson — 
Were  a  group  of  four  islands  so  entitled  from  earliest 
flatboat  days,  clustered  in  the  river,  just  above  the 
town.  Since  that  day  two  of  the  chicks  have  flown,  or 
grown,  to  the  mainland,  and  the  mother  bird  is  now 
merely  the  "Old  Hen"  with  one  "Chicken  Island," 
while  "Poor  Paddy,"  we  are  told,  "works  on  the  rail 
way." 

In  its  first  forty  leagues  above  Memphis  the  river 
went — has  gone — still  goes — through  more  violent 
writhings  than  in  any  like  part  of  its  whole  course, 
running  almost  twenty  crazy  miles  to  make  two  sane 
ones — made  finally,  in  the  republic's  hundredth  year, 
by  Centennial  Cut-off.  On  an  average  there  was  an 
island  for  every  four  miles  of  river,  or,  say,  three  for 
every  hour  of  the  Votaress's  progress,  and  in  this  high 
water  she  was  running  all  their  chutes.  A  great  re 
source  such  incidents  were,  on  that  particular  day,  to 
Ramsey.  At  any  moment  when  conversation  needed 

389 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

to  be  started,  stopped,  or  turned,  here  was  her  chance. 
Some  of  the  islands  covered  many  square  miles,  con 
tained  large  plantations,  and  had  names  as  well  as 
numbers.  Island  Forty,  reached  about  ten  o'clock, 
was  also  Beef  Island.  Number  Thirty-eight,  which 
they  began  to  pass  half  an  hour  later,  was  Brandy- 
wine  Island.  To  pass  Island  Thirty-five  on  its  short 
side  at  full  speed  took  half  an  hour,  and  Forked-Deer 
Island,  which  kept  the  boat  flying  up  a  narrow  chute 
from  half-past  two  till  three  o'clock,  was  old  Twenty- 
seven  and  Twenty-six  grown  together. 

Now,  these  things  are  geography  rather  than  his 
tory.  But  for  at  least  two  souls  aboard  the  Votaress 
they  were  more  history  than  geography.  History — 
they  were  life!  the  outer  frame  of  life  so  really  lived 
that  for  those  two  souls  it  would  be  history  thenceforth 
to  life's  end.  And  here  comes  in  some  pure  philosophy 
from  the  two  pilots:  to  wit,  that  if  you  turn  any  old 
maxim  over  you  will  always  find  another  truth  on  its 
other  side.  They  reached  this  conclusion  through 
Ned's  remarking  that  the  course  of  true  love  never 
runs  smooth. 

"That,"  said  Watson,  "depends.  It  depends  a  lot 
on  who  they  air  that's  a-takin'  the  course.  Ef  they're 
the  right  ones,  a  real  for-true  pair,  sech  as  the 
wayfarin'  man  though  a  pilot  kin  see  air  a  pair, 
like- 

"Two  gloves,"  said  Ned. 

"Yass,  or  galluses — I  misdoubt  ef  there's  anything 
in  the  world  that'll  run  so  smooth  through  and  over 

390 


LOVE  RUNS  ROUGH  BUT  RUNS  ON 

and  around  and  under  so  much  cussed  roughness  as 
what  true  love  will." 

The  remark  was  justified  before  their  eyes.  The 
two  whom  they  contemplated,  outwardly  so  unlike, 
were  in  their  essence  so  of  a  kind  that  they  belonged 
each  to  each  as  simply  and  patently  as  the  first  hu 
man  pair.  They  saw  it  so  themselves.  Society  about 
them  was  strangely  primitive — a  "clapboard  civili 
zation,"  the  actor  named  it  to  his  wife  at  their  pilot 
house  point  of  view — and  the  "for-true"  pair  in  sight 
below  them  took  frank  advantage  of  its  conditions  to 
appropriate  and  accept  each  other  as  simply  and  com 
pletely  as  if  these  weird  conditions — with  their  Devil's 
Elbow,  Race-ground,  Island,  Tea-table,  and  Back- 
oven — were  a  veritable  Eden  as  Eden  was  before  the 
devil  got  in.  Without  a  note  of  courtship  or  coquetry 
love  ran  ever  more  and  more  smoothly,  growing 
hourly  and  receiving  each  accession  as  we  have  seen 
the  Mississippi  receive  Red  River — merely  by  deep 
ening  its  own  flow — but,  unlike  the  Mississippi,  gain 
ing  in  transparency  as  it  gained  in  depth  and  power. 

Sin  e  leaving  Memphis  this  love  without  courtship 
or  coquetry  had  grown  under  the  effulgence  of  Madame 
Hayle's  immediate  presence  like  a  grain-field  in  sun 
shine.  On  her  return  from  the  triple  burial,  through 
sheer  exhaustion,  she  had  fainted  away.  Borne  up 
stairs  by  the  physician's  command  and  allowed  the 
roof  but  forbidden  the  lower  deck  for  twenty-four 
hours,  she  had  let  Mrs.  Gilmore  and  "Harriet"  as 
sume  her  pious  task  "'turn  about,  going  and  coming  by 

391 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

after  stairs.  And  so  love  grew  on.  But  so  did  hate, 
so  did  craft,  all  three,  to  borrow  the  figure,  going  and 
coming  by  the  after  stairs  of  general  intercourse. 


392 


LIII 
TRADING  FOR  PHYLLIS 

THIS  afternoon  was  cooler  than  any  of  the  three 
before  it. 

Change  of  latitude,  assuredly;  but  also  a  sky  half 
blue,  half  gray,  and  a  brisker  air.  Yet  for  that  small 
minority  of  the  ladies,  who  rather  craved  than  feared 
the  sunlight,  the  boat's  roofs — since  custom  debarred 
them  from  the  boiler  deck — were  still  its  most  invit 
ing  part.  After  a  few  modifications  of  dress  a  very 
pleasant  refuge  those  roofs  were,  although  when  the 
boat's  course  led  her  into  the  wind  it  was  good  to 
shut  a  sash  or  two  if  you  were  in  the  pilot-house,  or 
to  draw  your  chairs  into  the  lee  of  something  if  on  the 
open  deck.  Madame  Hayle,  urged  by  all  to  seek  re 
pose  in  her  stateroom,  said  to  Hugh  and  the  Cali- 
fornian,  behind  one  of  the  chimneys: 

"Me,  I  fine  it  mo'  betteh  to  breathe  on  that  deck 
than  to  bleach  in  that  cabin." 

Her  presence  was  to  the  Calif ornian's  advantage 
also,  in  his  desire  to  be  near  Ramsey,  and  indeed  the 
same  was  true  of  the  two  younger  clerks  and  the  cub 
pilot.  And  this  advantage  was  heightened  by  the  fact 
that  there  were  such  definite  things  to  be  considered 
wherever  two  or  three  came  together.  The  need  to 
keep  up  the  passengers'  spirits  was  as  real  as  ever  and 

393 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

a  number  of  resources  for  doing  it  required  to  be  dis 
cussed.  Ramsey  mentioned  the  unidentified  man  with 
the  cornet  but  found  no  seconder.  His  "Life  on  the 
Ocean  Wave"  was  thought  hardly  convincing  and  his 
"Bounding  Billow,  Cease  thy  Motion"  seemed  to  clash 
with  the  sentiment  for  an  ocean  life  and  to  suggest 
uncomfortable  symptoms.  Undaunted,  she  tried  again. 
Through  Basile  she  had  early  discovered  three  strip 
lings  of  the  circus  ring,  the  "Brothers  Ambrosia." 
Their  true  name,  her  cross-examination  had  revealed, 
was  Vinegar.  In  star-spangled  tights  they  would  give 
some  real  "  acrobatics, "  then  some  "  aerial  globe  dan 
cing,"  equally  star-spangled  and  even  more  up-side- 
down,  and  finally  a  bit  of  "miraculous  walking"  on 
champagne  bottles  set  upright  on  the  dining-table. 
This  proposition  was  accepted  without  audible  dis 
sent,  only  the  parson's  wife  not  voting.  Then  the 
Californian  spoke  for  a  self-styled  "young  gent"  and 
"amateur  professor"  who  had  eagerly  volunteered  to 
"take  everybody's  breath  away"  by  the  magic  of  his 
tricks  with  hats,  handkerchiefs,  and  cards,  and  to 
"throw  them  into  convulsions"  with  his  "evening 
cat  fight  among  the  chimney-pots."  But  "Beware 
the  laugh  that  sours  overnight,"  Mrs.  Gilmore  said, 
and  the  decision  was  prompt,  Madame  Hayle  voic 
ing  it,  that  as  convulsions  could  be  brought  on  and 
breath  taken  away  by  the  cholera  itself  the  young 
gent,  through  "California,"  be  gratefully  requested  to 
await  a  situation  either  less  desperate  or  more  so. 
The  gold  hunter  admitted  the  wisdom  of  this  action, 
394 


TRADING  FOR  PHYLLIS 

though  his  humble  spirit  felt  acutely  its  discrediting 
reflection  on  himself,  especially  when — with  only  the 
kindest  meaning — Ramsey  laughed.  He  bravely  kept 
his  pain  to  himself  and  said  nothing  to  disown  the 
"amateur  professor."  With  a  brief  aside  to  Hugh,  to 
which  Hugh  nodded,  he  slipped  away  to  the  lower  deck 
and  for  nearly  two  hours  made  his  nursing  skill  so 
valuable  to  "Harriet"  among  the  immigrants  that  her 
fearless  mind  overlooked  the  main  object  of  his  stay; 
which  was  to  defend  her  from  any  stratagem  of  the 
twins  and  others,  that  Marburg  might  not  detect  in 
time  or  might  be  unable  to  cope  with.  At  length, 
puzzled  to  know  why  Mrs.  Gilmore  did  not  appear, 
he  was  leaving,  when  at  the  foot  of  the  narrow  stair 
under  the  kitchen  he  met  Lucian  coming  down. 
They  stopped.  He  smiled.  "Howdy!"  he  said. 

Lucian  stood  silent. 

"Can't  come  down  here,  you  know,"  said  the  gold 
hunter,  and  instantly  Lucian  was  white  hot. 

"Who  tells  you,"  he  drawled,  "what  I  may  or  may 
not  do?" 

"Who?  oh— just  a  little  black  dog." 

"Black— what?" 

"You  heard.  He's  a  funny  little  cuss;  like  you,  a 
trifle  puny.  Has  coughin'  fits.  Coughs  six  times  each 
fit.  Spits  up  a  chunk  o'  lead  ev'y  time  he  coughs. 
Want  to  see  him?" 

Lucian's  unaffrighted  eyes  blazed  down,  though  his 
reply  was  as  if  to  himself.  "Great  God!  if  my 
brother- 

395 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Oh,"  kindly  said  the  Calif  ornian,  uhe  ain't  fur  off. 
Go,  get  him.  I'll  follow  you,  lock-step." 

Lucian  turned  and  went,  the  speaker  adding  as  he 
followed  close: 

"Ladder's  no  place  for  scienced  fighting,  you  know." 

They  found  Julian,  evidently  waiting,  on  the  pas 
senger  guards  just  forward  of  the  pantry  gangway. 
But  before  words  could  be  exchanged  the  cub  pilot 
came  along  by  way  of  the  main  staircase,  escorting  the 
physician  from  the  lower  deck.  The  latter  passed  on 
up  the  wheel-house  steps  to  the  roof,  but  the  "cub" 
hung  back.  "California"  faced  him. 

"What's  the  fraction?    The  captain?" 

The  youth  nodded.    His  inquirer  waved  him  away. 

"All  right.  I'll  come.  You  go  on."  The  boy  com 
plied. 

Julian  had  swelled  for  encounter,  but  a  warning  look 
from  Lucian  checked  him  and  he  let  the  Californian 
speak  first. 

"Here,"  said  the  gold-digger,  "I'm  fixed.  You're 
not.  True,  I  could  loan  you  the  twTin  to  mine,  but — 

Julian's  lip  curled.  "'But' — you're  not  hungry  to 
fight." 

"Oh,  other  things  being  equal,  I  have  an  appetite! 
Yes,  sir-ee,  Bob  Hoss-Fly,  and  a  red  dog  under  the 
wheelbarrow!  But" — smiling  again — "let's  do  things 
in  scientific  order.  You  two  claim  that  you  Hayle 
folks  own  that  forty-year-old  white  gal  down-stairs 
which  you  call  a  runaway  niggeh,  and  which  we'll  al 
low  she  is  one.  Well,  I'll  buy  you  two's  share  in  her — 

396 


TRADING  FOR  PHYLLIS 

providing  I  can  buy  the  rest  of  her  from  your  two 
ladies  up-stairs — and  fight  you  afterward  or  not  as 
the  case  may  require.  Now,  what'll  you  take  for  your 
said  two  shares,  right  here,  cash  down,  gold;  not  dust 
but  coin,  New  Orleans  Branch  Mint?  Going  at — what 
do  I  hear?" 

The  spendthrift  pair  stared  on  each  other,  thinking 
with  all  their  might.  But  they  failed  to  think  that  on 
the  deck  above  them,  in  group  with  Mrs.  Gilmore, 
Hugh,  the  parson's  wife,  Ramsey,  and  old  Joy,  the 
ownership  of  Phyllis  was  being  fully  set  forth  by  their 
mother  to  their  own  whilom  champions  the  senator 
and  the  general,  or  that  Ramsey  was  about  to  be  sent 
down  to  the  stateroom  of  the  mother  and  daughter  for 
documentary  evidence. 

"What  do  I  hear?"  repeated  the  Calif ornian, 
watching  his  own  hands  as  the  right  drew  double- 
eagles  from  his  belt  and  stacked  them  in  the  left. 

Eagerly  asking  themselves  what  might  be  their 
tempter's  motive,  the  pair  thought  primarily  of  the 
white  slave's  well-preserved  beauty  and  the  rarity  of 
women  in  the  far  West.  With  that  came  a  stinging 
remembrance  of  her  glaring  Hayle  likeness  and  then 
of  their  father's  old  scheme — averted  by  their  mother 
— to  sell  the  girl  forever  out  of  sight  and  reach.  And 
then  came  the  pleasanter  thought  that  at  any  rate 
here  was  a  chance  to  put  this  daredevil  at  odds  with 
the  hated  Gilmores  as  well  as  with  their  own  mother 
and  sister,  the  Courteneys,  and  all  the  Courteney  clan. 
Till  now  they  had  felt  that,  if  only  for  self-respect  and 

397 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

good  standing,  they  must  recover  their  property,  seize 
Phyllis  on  the  spot,  if  they  could  possibly  command 
the  backing  to  do  it.  But  this  was  now  very  doubtful. 
Something  had  happened  to  the  senator's  mind,  while 
the  general  was  but  his  echo  and  the  element  called 
"others"  was  strangely  sluggish.  And,  finally,  or 
rather,  first  and  last,  the  brothers  were  thrilled  with 
the  prodigal's  lust  for  ready  money.  So  far  they  saw 
and  no  farther,  but  so  far  so  good;  here  seemed  to  be 
an  unguarded  opening  in  the  enemy's  line — to  use  a 
phrase  the  great  valley  was  one  day  to  know  by  heart 
— and  the  warier  of  the  pair  ventured  in.  Said  Lu- 
cian: 

"We're  Uncle  Dan's  sole  legatees." 

"Then  name  your  price  for  her,  lock,  stock,  and 
barrel." 

"Want  to  take  her  only  to  Kentucky,  or  to  Cali 
fornia?" 

"Californy — maybe  Oregon." 

"To  keep  house  for  you — single  gentleman?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"When  do  you  expect  to  come  back?" 

"Never." 

The  questioner  glanced  back  to  his  brother.  Both 
were  gratified  to  note  that  the  bargain  would  work  no 
relief  to  Hugh  or  the  Gilmores,  but  Julian  wanted  better 
assurance  that  it  would  not  free  a  runaway  slave  or 
make  her  a  lawful  wife.  He  turned  abruptly,  and  so  it 
happened  that  all  three  failed  to  see  Ramsey,  in  dark 
attire  and  with  Joy  close  behind,  emerge  an  instant 

398 


TRADING  FOR  PHYLLIS 

from  the  pantry  gangway  and  shrink  again  into  it. 
On  the  return  from  her  stateroom  to  the  roof,  for  mere 
variety,  she  had  taken  this  direction.  Said  Julian  as 
he  turned: 

"You're  a  Kentuckian,  sir.    Henry  Clay  man?" 

"No.    Only  don't  allow  anything  said  again'  him." 

"Abolitionist?" 

"No,  sir-ee."    The  emphasis  was  sprightly. 

The  twins  looked  at  each  other  once  more.  Julian 
nodded. 

"One  thousand  dollars,"  said  Lucian.  .  .  . 

Let  us  go  back  a  step  or  so  and  up  to  the  hurricane- 
deck.  We  have  named  Hugh  as  in  the  group  about 
Madame  Hayle;  but  he  went  and  came.  In  his  ab 
sences  the  matrons  debated  the  Phyllis  matter  as  it 
involved  the  Gilmores,  trying  to  find  some  way  not  to 
leave  it  an  undivided  burden  on  Hugh  and  the  Votaress. 
It  was  on  one  of  his  quiet  reappearances,  reporting  his 
father  "easier,"  that  Ramsey  put  in: 

"Mom-a,  the  senator's  a  lawyer.  Send  for  him — 
and  the  general — and  talk  them  over  to  our  side.  You 
can  do  it.  You  can  talk  anybody  into  anything !  You 
always  could!" 

Madame  Hayle  and  Hugh  looked  at  each  other  very 
much  as  the  twins  were  doing  about  that  time  on  the 
guards  next  below,  and  Hugh  said: 

"I  will  go  bring  them." 

"Ah,  if  you  please,  yass,  go." 

He  brought  them  and  they  were  among  madame's 
auditors  when  later  she  said,  addressing  her  words 

399 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

wherever  they  fitted  best,  so  that  even  old  Joy  got  her 
share : 

"Had  it  not  have  been  for  Phylliz,  Dan  Hayle,  he 
wouldn'  neveh  took  that  troub'  to  wride  that  will. 
But  I  insiz'  he  shall  wride  it,  biccause — Phylliz.  Tha'z 

all.    An'  biccause  Phylliz  he  wrode  it.    But  he  say  to 

_„    ?> 

me — 

"When  was  this?"  inquired  the  senator. 

"Tha'z  when  those  twin'  make  him  thad  visit, 
Walnut  Hill'.  He  say:  ' W'ad  uze  to  you  if  I  make  my 
laz'  will?  I  give  any'ow  everything  to  those  twin'.' 
An'  tha'z  biccause"  (to  old  Joy)  "thad  chile  w'ad 
die- 

"Drownded,"  murmured  the  nurse.  "Ayfteh  dat 
transpiah  he  take  a  shine  to  ev'y  man-chile  he  git  his 
ahm  aroun'." 

Madame  resumed:  "An'  I  say  to  him:  'Give  all  the 
rez'  to  who'  you  want,  but  Phylliz — to  me.'  'No!' 
he  say,  'you,  you'll  put  her  free  I' ' 

"Why  didn't  he  want  her  set  free?"  asked  Ram 
sey. 

"An'  you  are  there — an'  silend!    I  forgod  you!" 

"Why  didn't  he  want  her  set  free?"  insisted  the 
forgotten. 

"Ah!"  said  the  mother  to  the  senator  as  though 
the  inquiry  were  his,  "  Dan,  he  seem'  to  thing  tha'z  a 
caztigation  on  him.  An'  he  say:  'Neveh  mine,  I  figs 
thad  so  she  can'd  be  free  pretty  soon.'  An'  me,  I 
thoughd  he  leave  her  to  those  twin'  till  I'm  reading 
the  will." 

400 


TRADING  FOR  PHYLLIS 

Ramsey  stood  up  elatedly.  "I  know  what  he  did! 
I  see  it!" 

But  as  her  mother  chidingly  murmured  her  name  she 
reflected  the  maternal  dignity  and  accepted  a  bunch 
of  keys. 

"Go,  if  you  please,  ad  my  room,"  said  madame, 
"open- 

"Your  little  trunk,  and  pop-a's  tin  box  inside,"  the 
girl  interrupted,  but  deferentially  caught  herself  again 
and  with  the  corner  of  an  eye  felt  about  for  Hugh. 
But  Hugh  had  gone  back  to  his  father  and  thence  to 
the  deck  next  below. 

"  Yass.  You  fine  there  manny  pape'.  One  is  mark' — 
you'll  see.  Fedge  me  thad.  'Tis  the  h-only  tha'z  blue." 

Ramsey  sped  away  over  skylights  and  down  a  back 
stair. 

The  senator  spoke:  "Who  were  that  will's  exec 
utors?" 

"Ah,  of  co'se,  my  'usban',  Capitan  Hayle,  al-lone." 

"The  heirs,  I  dare  say,  have  seen  it?" 

The  lady  smiled.  "Not  at  all.  Biccause  h-anybody 
can  see  it  if  he  want,  nobody  eveh  want,  an'  leaz'  of 
all  those  twin'  when  they  are  getting  everything.  No 
body  speak  abbout  Phylliz,  biccause  Phylliz  is  su'pose 
drown',  an'  drown'  peop'  they  don'  count." 

In  the  stateroom  Ramsey  knelt,  opened  the  trunk, 
then  the  tin  box,  and  then,  despite  old  Joy's  repre 
hending  moan,  the  document  itself. 

"I  knew  it!"  she  whispered  elatedly,  relocking  the 
box  and  trunk.  "I  guessed  right!" 

401 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

When  at  the  forward  end  of  the  pantry  gangway  she 
came  upon  the  twins  and  "California"  and  shrank 
back  into  hiding,  the  will  was  in  her  hand.  In  a  trem 
ble  between  staying  and  fleeing  she  heard  the  gold 
hunter,  as  he  stood  with  his  hands  full  of  yellow  coin, 
declare  himself  a  Kentuckian  and  no  abolitionist,  and 
therefore  understood  instantly  the  significance  of  Lu- 
cian's  response: 

"One  thousand  dollars." 

Too  eager  for  speech,  she  glided  forth  and  at  the 
Californian's  back  halted  before  her  brothers.  But 
he  had  already  smitten  a  fist  into  the  hungry  palm 
of  either  twin  and  was  saying  as  he  unburdened  it 
there : 

"A  hundred  on  account  to  you — same  to  you — bal 
ance  when  you  show  title — she's  mine!" 

"She's  mine!"  cried  the  laughing  girl. 

The  three  men  stared,  but  the  twins  hurried  the 
gold  into  their  pockets  while  she  laughed  on  to  them: 
"  Hand  that  back.  You've  got  no  title.  This  is  Uncle 
Dan's  will  and  she's  been  mine  for  eleven  years."  On 
the  stair  close  by  them  she  began  to  step  up  backward 
but  stopped  to  add  to  the  Calif ornian:  "Take  back 
your  money  and  come  trade  with  mom-a." 

The  twins  showed  instant  conviction,  but  to  them 
all  dispossession  was  robbery  and  Lucian  broke  out, 
first  on  Ramsey,  "We  don't  give  back  one  dime!" 
then  to  the  Calif  ornian,  "  You  pushed  it  on  us  and 
we'll  keep  it!"  then  to  Julian,  "He  hasn't  the  faintest 
right  to  it  now  in  law,  morals,  or  custom!"  and  then 

402 


TRADING  FOR  PHYLLIS 

back  to  the  Calif ornian :  "  You  sha  Vt  ever  see  a  cop 
per  of  it!" 

Ramsey  was  quick-witted  again.  She  threw  the 
gold  hunter  a  glance  which  conveyed  to  him  the  reali 
zation  that  to  leave  the  money  with  the  twins  was 
to  put  them  at  a  hopeless  disadvantage.  Almost  as 
quickly  Lucian  saw  the  same  thing  and  flashed  it  to 
Julian;  but  in  that  brief  interval  their  sister  disap 
peared  on  the  deck  above,  old  Joy  following,  and  while 
the  brothers  lost  another  moment  in  a  motionless  con 
test  of  impulses  the  Californian  vanished  after  her. 
Lucian,  with  his  breath  drawn  to  call  up  the  empty 
stair,  started  forward  but  struck  his  knee-cap  on  a  light, 
gilded  chair  left  there  by  some  child.  Burning  with 
rage  and  trembling  with  nervous  exhaustion,  he  barely 
saved  himself  from  lunging  into  two  men  of  slight 
stature  who  had  just  come  from  a  neighboring  state 
room:  a  slender  old  man  leaning  feebly  on  a  thick-set 
youth,  whom  one  flash  of  his  eye  identified  as  the  com 
modore  and  Hugh,  though  as  they  passed  toward  the 
stair  they  betrayed  no  sign  that  they  had  observed 
him. 

He  gave  his  speechless  brother  a  single  look,  caught 
the  chair  by  its  back,  lifted  it  over  his  head,  and  with 
a  long,  smothered  cry,  half  moan,  half  whine,  crashed 
it  down  upon  the  balustrade — once — twice — and  again, 
again,  hurled  the  last  fragment  underfoot,  and  with 
eyes  streaming  stamped,  stamped,  and  stamped,  while 
the  commodore  and  his  supporter  went  on  up  to  the 
roof  and  beyond  view  without  a  glance  behind. 

403 


LIV 

"CAN'T!" 

ON  handing  the  will  to  her  mother,  Ramsey  found 
her  no  longer  leading  the  conversation.  The  senator 
had  the  floor,  the  deck,  and,  as  Ned  or  Watson  might 
have  said,  was  "drawing  all  the  water  in  the  river." 
His  discourse  was  to  madame  and  the  general  alter 
nately,  though  now  and  then  he  included  the  parson's 
wife  and  Mrs.  Gilmore. 

Ramsey's  talent  for  taking  in  everything  at  once  was 
taxed  to  its  limit  when  at  the  same  time  that  she  at 
tended  to  him  she  watched  an  elegant  steamer,  one 
of  the  Saturday-evening  boats  out  of  Cincinnati,  pass 
remotely  on  the  Arkansas  side  behind  Island  Thirty- 
six;  marked  the  return  of  the  Calif ornian  as  he  followed 
her  from  his  conference  with  the  twins;  noted  the  slow, 
preoccupied  passing  of  Hugh  and  his  grandfather  to 
the  captain's  room;  measured  every  winged  stride  of 
the  Votaress's  approach  toward  the  Third  Chickasaw 
Bluff;  observed — as  earlier  bidden  by  the  actor — the 
strange  pink  and  yellow  stripes  of  the  bluff's  clay  face, 
and  recognized  in  the  great  bell's  landing  signal  the 
sad  business  which  had  become  so  half-conscious  a 
habit  in  the  boat's  routine.  Yet  she  caught  the 
senator's  every  word. 

404 


"  CAN'T  !" 

Whether  a  person  born  in  slavery,  although  seven 
eighths  white,  he  was  saying,  was  free  by  law  was 
hardly  a  practical  question,  the  matter  being  so  nearly 
independent  of  any  mere  statute.  For  if  such  a  slave 
sought  liberty  of  an  owner  inclined  to  grant  it  there 
certainly  was  no  law  to  prevent  its  bestowal,  whereas 
if  the  owner  was  unwilling  the  burden  of  proof  would 
naturally  fall  upon  the  slave,  who,  of  course — 

"No,"  said  Ramsey,  drawing  his  and  every  eye  and 
interesting  everybody  by  a  sweet  maturity  of  tone  to 
which  her  mourning  dress  lent  emphasis.  "No,  it 
would  not.  The  judge  told  me  about  that  on  Sunday." 

Madame  started  and  smiled.  "You  h-asked?  An' 
fo'  w'at?" 

The  transient  air  of  maturity  failed,  and  Ramsey's 
shoulders  went  up  in  her  more  usual  manner. 

The  senator  had  his  question:  "What  did  the  judge 
say?" 

"The  judge  says,  where  the  slave  seems  to  be  white 
the  owner  must  prove  she  ain't — prove  she  isn't;  but 
the  burden,  he  says,  of  getting  the  case  into  court 

"Ah!"  The  senator  was  relieved.  "  Practically  the 
same  thing.  For  no  slave  can  get  a  case  into  court 
without  white  help,  and  no  decent  white  man  will  step 
between  an  owner  and  a  slave  who  confesses  to  any 
African  blood." 

"  No-c'ommunity  would  ssstand  it,"  said  the 
general. 

"Now,"  pursued  the  senator,  "a  claim  based  on 
pure  white  blood  and  charging  some  palpable  mistake 

405 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

or  fraud  would  be  different.  That  would  invite  a  com 
munity's  sympathy  and  support.  I've  heard  of  such 
cases."  He  faced  Ramsey  again,  whose  smile  implied 
a  query  in  waiting. 

Madame  had  handed  the  document  to  the  senator. 
It  was  short.  He  read  it  in  a  glance  or  two  and,  re 
folding  it,  addressed  Ramsey  again:  "This  slave  girl 
can  neither  be  set  free  nor  sold,  for  she's  yours,  and 
you're  a  minor.  She  seems  to  have  been  left  to  you 
just  for  that." 

Until  her  mother  spoke,  Ramsey  was  mystified  by 
her  gracious  bows  of  satisfaction  to  the  senator  and 
the  general,  but  then  she  understood  and  was  glad. 
"Ven-ie  well,"  said  madame,  "iv  Phylliz  be  satizfi'  to 
billong  to  Ramzee 

"She  is,"  said  Mrs.  Gilmore.    "She's  told  me  so." 

"Verrie  well,  she'll  juz'  billong.  An'"— to  the 
senator — "you'll  tell  h-all  those  passenger'  you  h-are 
the  fran'  of  my  'usban'  an'  fran'  of  the  pewblic  an'  you 
'ave  seen  thad  will,  an'  Phylliz  she's  h-all  those  year' 
billong  to  Ramzee,  an'  tha'z  h-all  arrange'  and  h-every- 
boddie  satizfi',  ondly  those  twin'  they  'ave  not  hear' 
abboud  that  yet,  but  you'll  see  them  an'  make  them 
satizfi'- 

"They  know,"  called  Ramsey  and  "California," 
and  the  latter  added  to  the  senator:  "They've  sold  all 
claim  to  her,  sight  unseen,  and  have  got  the  money; 
took  it  from  me,  before  witnesses."  Then  to  the  as 
tonished  matron  he  added:  "We  can  fix  that  in  a  jiffy, 
as  slick  as  glass." 

406 


"CANT!" 

But  there  the  immediate  scene  diverted  every  one; 
the  whole  group  moved  to  the  roof's  edge  to  see  the 
boat  land.  Then,  while  her  bells  still  jingled  and  her 
wheels  yeasted,  the  company,  heart-sick  of  burials, 
fell  apart.  The  senator  and  the  general,  promising 
zealous  action  and  the  best  results,  returned  to  the 
boiler  deck,  the  parson's  wife  sought  her  children,  Mrs. 
Gil  more  went  down  to  "Harriet."  To  shield  madame 
from  the  full  force  of  the  breeze  "California"  moved 
her  chair,  Joy  following  with  Ramsey's,  to  the  shelter 
of  the  great  chimney  nearest  the  captain's  door,  where 
sympathy  itself  tended  to  draw  them,  and  by  the  time 
this  was  done  the  commodore,  again  on  Hugh's  arm, 
reissued  from  the  captain's  room  and,  at  sight  of  this 
quartet,  paused,  turned,  and  accepted  a  seat  among 
them. 

The  first  word  was  Ramsey's:  How  was  the  captain? 

The  best  that  could  be  said  was  that  he  was  "hold 
ing  out" — or  "up" — or  "on" — the  commodore's  voice 
was  weak.  He  had  come  away  from  the  captain's  bed 
side  because  a  convalescent  was  "only  in  the  way," 
he  said,  and  because  Hugh  felt  that  he  belonged  on 
deck  if  anywhere,  though  that,  the  old  man  fondly 
added,  was  less  important  than  Hugh  chose  to  regard 
it.  This  unimportance  Ramsey  recognized  by  divert 
ing  the  conversation  so  far  as  to  announce  that 
"mom-a"  had  just  settled  the  whole  Phyllis  business. 

"Mighty  nigh,"  the  Calif ornian  admitted,  answer 
ing  Hugh's  quiet  glance,  while  his  heart  praised  the 
daughter's  failure  to  credit  him  with  his  share  in  the 

407 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

achievement,  that  being  a  thing  still  in  progress,  whose 
design  he  had  not  fully  revealed.  The  omission  seemed 
to  him  most  maidenly  and  daughterly.  He  spoke  on, 
to  the  two  ladies: 

"There's  a  thing  or  two  more " 

"Oh,  I'll  pay  that  two  hundred  dollars!"  cried 
Ramsey. 

In  animated  approval  her  mother  nodded  to  both. 

"Not  if  the  court  knows  itself,"  said  the  modest 
man,  with  so  winsome  a  smile  that  every  one  noticed 
how  blue  were  his  eyes.  "I  can  trump  that,"  he  added, 
musingly. 

"What's  the  other  thing?  You  said  a  thing  or  two," 
asked  Ramsey. 

"Her  wages,  ain't  it,  for  eleven  years?" 

"Ho,  ho!"  laughed  madame  in  amiable  scorn, 
while 

"Paid!"  cried  Ramsey.  "Mrs.  Gilmore's  always 
paid  her!" 

"Knowin'  she  was  a  runaway?  and  who'  from?" 

Madame  bowed  sweetly,  yet  with  an  aroused  sparkle. 

"Humph!"  said  Ramsey,  wat'ching  the  boat  back 
out  and  lay  her  course  for  Island  Thirty-five,  "I'd 
have  done  as  they  did,  either  of  them."  She  stepped 
into  the  freshening  breeze. 

The  inquirer's  eyes  rested  on  her,  bluer  than  ever. 

"Don't  you  propose  to  collect?"  he  asked. 

"Most  certainly  not!"  sang  Ramsey  at  full  height. 

"Not  a  sou,"  said  madame,  looking  about  in  grand 
amusement.  "Not  a  pic-ah-yune — hoh!" 

408 


"CANT!" 

"But  she's  going  back  into  yo'  hands? " 

"My  'an's,"  said  madame. 

"And  you'll  never  sell  her?" 

"  Can't  1"  laughed  Ramsey,  with  eyes  ahead. 

"You  can  hire  her." 

"Yes,"  said  Ramsey,  turning.    "Oh,  yes." 

"Well,  what'll  you  take,  from  the  right  bidder,  for 
that  girl's  free  papers  dated  ahead  to  when  you  come 
of  age,  bidder  takin'  all  the  resks?" 

"You  said  down-stairs  you  wasn't  an  abolitionist!" 

He  twinkled.  "Well,  down-stairs  I  wa'n't,  and  in 
general  I  ain't.  I'm  a  Kentuckian.  But  I've  got  an 
offer  to  make."  He  turned  to  the  Courteneys:  "I  al 
lowed  to  make  it  to  this  young  gentleman  first,  alone, 
an'  get  his  advice — an'  the  commodo's  if  he'd  give  it; 
but  the'  ain't  anybody  in  this  small  crowd  but  what's 
welcome  to  hear  it,  even  this  young  lady,  considerin' 
that  she's  jest  heard  so  much  worse  again'  me — in 
sinuated — down-stairs . ' ' 

There  was  a  pause.  Old  Joy  murmured  and  Ma 
dame  spoke  the  daughter's  name,  adding  something 
in  French. 

"Ifoi,"  replied  Ramsey,  planting  herself  and  gazing 
up  the  river,  " je  prefere  to  stay  right  here." 

The  mother's  smile  to  the  Kentuckian  bade  him  pro 
ceed,  but  he  still  addressed  Hugh  and  the  grandfather: 

"You  see,  that  girl  down-stairs,  'Harriet,'  'Phyllis/ 
has  been  free — Lawdy,  free's  nothin',  she's  been  white! 
— fo'  ten  years.  Now,  if  she  goes  back  home,  there 
may  be  no  place  like  it,  but  she's  got  to  be  black  again. 

409 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Well,  think  what  that  is.  I've  been  weighin'  that  fact 
while  I  looked  into  her  eyes  and  listened  to  her  voice, 
an'  thinks  I  to  myself:  'If  I  was  this  girl,  this  goin' 
back  to  be  bkek  would  mean  one  of  two  things:  I'd 
either  die  myself,  aw  I'd  kill  some  one,  maybe  sev'l.' 
True,  I'm  pyo'  white  an'  she  ain't,  quite,  but  I  don't 
believe  her  po'  little  drop  o'  low  blood  makes  her  any 
mo'  bridlewise  'n  what  I'd  be." 

While  the  speaker's  smile  drew  smiles  from  madame 
and  the  commodore,  Ramsey  turned  to  him  a  severe 
face  and  in  the  same  glance  managed  to  see  Hugh's, 
but  Hugh's  might  as  well  have  been,  to  her  mind,  the 
face  of  a  Chickasaw  bluff. 

"Well,  what  then?"  she  asked  the  gold  hunter. 

"Same  time,"  said  "California,"  still  to  the  Courte- 
neys,  while  madame  promptly  discerned  his  covert 
argument  and  Ramsey  suddenly  busied  herself  talking 
up  to  the  pilot-house,  "I  noticed,  more'n  eveh,  how 
much  she,  Phyllis,  favoh'd  somebody  I  was  once  'pon 
a  time  pow'ful  soft  on,  but  whose  image" — his  smile 
won  smiles  again — "I  to'e  out  o'  my  heart — aw 
buried  in  thah — aw  both — it  bein'  too  ridiculous  fo' 
me  to  aspiah  that  high.  An'  so  here  looked  to  me  like 
a  substitute,  gentlemen,  that  ought  to  satisfy  all  con 
cerned."  His  eye  turned  to  madame  but  lost  courage 
and  escaped  back  to  Hugh. 

"Now,  Mr.  Hugh,  I've  got  money  a-plenty.  It's 
all  I  have  got  excep'  maybe  a  good  tempeh,  an'  I'm 
goin'  back  to  the  diggin's  anyhow;  one  man  to  the  squa' 
mile  is  too  crowded  fo'  me.  Meantime,  madam" — 

410 


"CANT!" 

he  turned  again  and  this  time  he  was  invincible,  al 
though  madame  straightened  and  sparkled  and  Ram 
sey  gave  a  staring  attention,  having  throughout  all 

her  pilot-house  talk  heard  everything "  Meantime, 

madam,  with  a  priest  right  here  on  boa'd,  if  I  can 
buy,  at  any  price,  Phyllis's  free  papehs — 

"You  can't!"  chanted  Ramsey.  "She  can  have 
'em  for  nothing  but  nobody  can  buy  'em." 

"Pries'?"  asked  madame,  "an'  free  pape'l  Wat 
you  pro-ose  do  with  those  pries'  an'  free  pape'?" 

"I'll  marry  her;  marry  her  an'  take  her  to  whah  a 
woman's  a  woman  fo'  a'  that  an'  can  clean  house  aw 
cook  dinneh  whilst  I  gatheh  the  honeycomb  bright  as 
gold  and  drive  the  wolf  to  his  secret  hold."  He  cast 
around  the  group  a  glance  of  bright  inquiry,  but  ex 
cept  old  Joy  every  one  silently  looked  at  every  one 
else.  The  old  woman  softly  closed  her  eyes  and  shook 
her  head. 

"Vote!"  cried  Ramsey,  remembering  Sunday's  vic 
tory.  "Let's  vote  on  it!" 


411 


LV 
LOVE  MAKES  A  CUT-OFF 

BUT  the  grandfather  addressed  the  adventurer. 
"You'd  rather  not,  I  fancy." 

"Rather  not;  looks  too  unanimous  the  wrong  way." 
"Would  you  still  like  to  have  Hugh's  advice?" 
"I  would!    I'd  like  to  hear  yo'-all's  argument." 
Ramsey  dropped  into  her  chair  with  a  tired  sigh  and 
up-stream  gaze  though  with  an  inner  ear  of  keenest 
attention. 

Hugh  glanced  toward  his  father's  door,  whence  at 
any  moment,  as  every  one  realized,  the  actor  might 
beckon. 

"I  have  no  argument,"  he  began. 
"You  have,"  breathed  a  voice,  unmistakably  Ram 
sey's;  "you  always  have." 

"You  know,"  he  continued  to  the  Kentuckian, 
"there's  something  in  all  of  us,  I  don't  say  what,  or 
whether  wise  or  foolish,  that  says  :  '  Don't  do  it.'  You 
feel  it,  don't  you?" 

Madame  interrupted:    "Mais  don't  do  w'at?" 
Ramsey  faced  the  group  as  if  to  answer  just  that 
question.    "Now  we  pass  between  Cedar  Point  and 
Pecan   Point   and   head   for   the    Second   Chickasaw 
Bluffs!" 

412 


LOVE  MAKES  A  CUT-OFF 

"Ah  bah,  les  blofF,"  murmured  madame  and  re 
peated  to  Hugh:  "Something  say,  'Don'  do  it'?  Mais 
w'at  it  say  don'  do?" 

"Don't  mix  the  great  races  we  know  apart  by  their 
color." 

"Umph!  An'  w'at  is  thad  something  w'at  tell  uz 
that?" 

"Grandfather  calls  it  race  conscience." 

"Grandfather!"  whimpered  Ramsey,  while  madame 
asked : 

"Of  w'at  race  has  Phylliz  the  conscien'?  An'  you 
would  know  Phylliz'  race — ad  sight — by  the  color?" 

"I'd  know  it!"  put  in  the  Kentuckian.  "She's 
white,  to  all  intents  and  purposes." 

"No,"  said  Hugh,  "not  quite  to  all.  Not  to  all  as 
organized  society,  in  its 

Ramsey,  with  eyes  up  the  river,  sighed:  "Mrs. 
Grundy?" 

"Yes,  but  Mrs.  Grundy  in  her  best  intents  and 
purposes." 

"In  her  race  conscience,"  wailed  Ramsey  to  the 
breeze. 

"In  her  race  conscience,"  assented  Hugh. 

Ramsey  whipped  around.  "  Thought  you  had  no  ar 
gument." 

"I'm  giving  grandfather's,"  said  the  grandson. 

"Humph!  it's  yours.  I'd  know  it  at  sight — by  the 
color." 

"Miss  Ramsey,"  said  the  old  man,  toying  with  his 
cane,  "Hugh  and  I  have  been  finding  that,  right  or 

413 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

wrong,  Mrs.  Gmndy  or  Mr.  Grundy,  race  conscience 
is  a  wonderful,  unaccountable  thing  for  which  men  will 
give  their  life-blood  by  thousands."  His  voice  failed. 
He  waved  smilingly  to  Hugh. 

"And  when,"  broke  in  Hugh  to  Ramsey,  "when  Mrs. 
Grundy,  in  her  race  conscience,  says  Phyllis  is  not 
white  no  one  ought  to  snap  his  fingers  in  even  Mrs. 
Grundy's  face  merely  to  please  himself  or  to  relieve 
some  private  situation." 

Ramsey  stood  up,  flashing  first  on  him  and  then  to 
her  mother,  dropped  again,  and  with  her  face  in  her 
elbow  on  the  chair's  back  recited  drearily — from  her 
third  reader: 

"You  can  hear  him  swing  his  heavy  sledge 

With  measured  beat  and  slow, 
Like  the  sexton  ringing  the  village  bell 
When  the  evening  sun " 

"Ramzee!"  exclaimed  madame,  while  the  old  nurse 
groaned:  "Oh,  Lawd  'a'  massy!" 

The  girl  rose,  laughed,  and  flashed  again:  "Well,  if 
Phyllis  ain't  white  what  is  she?  She's  got  to  be  some 
thing!" 

"Yes,"  said  the  youth,  "but  not  everything.  I 
know  her  wrongs.  But  none  of  us,  with  whatever 
rights  and  wrongs,  can  have,  or  do,  or  be — 

"Oh,  don't  we  know  all  that?"  Ramsey  turned  to 
the  grandfather  and  with  sudden  deference  sprang  to 
help  him  rise.  He  faced  her  and  the  Californian  to 
gether. 

414 


LOVE   MAKES  A  CUT-OFF 

"Miss  Ramsey,  Hugh  has  all  your  feelings  in  this 
matter." 

Madame,  "California,"  and  old  Joy  eagerly  as 
sented. 

"But  poor,  blundering  old  Mrs.  Grundy,  always 
wronging  some  one,"  the  old  man  smilingly  continued, 
"  is  really  fighting  hard  for  a  better  human  race.  That's 
the  greatest  battle  she  can  fight,  my  dear  young  lady, 
and  when — 

"Well,"  rejoined  Ramsey  with  eyes  frankly  tearful, 
"she  fights  it  mighty  badly." 

"Ah,  a  hundred  times  worse  than  you  think.  Yet 
we  who  presume  to  fight  the  blunders  of  that  battle 
must  fight  them  unselfishly  and  to  help  her  win." 

Old  Joy  groaned  so  approvingly  that  he  turned  to 
her. 

"What  do  you  think,  old  mammy?" 

"  Who,  me?  Lawd,  I  thinks  mighty  little  an'  I  knows 
less.  Yit  one  thing  I  does  know:  Phyllis  ain'  gwine. 
She  know'  you  cayn't  make  her  white  by  takin'  her 
to  whah  it  make'  no  odds  ef  she  ain't  white.  Phyllis 
love'  folks.  She  love'  de  quality,  she  love'  de  crowd. 
White  aw  black  aw  octoroom  free  niggeh,  Phyllis  gwine 
to  choose  de  old  Hayle  home  and  de  great  riveh — full 
o'  steamboat' — sooneh'n  any  Ian'  whah  de  ain't  mo'n 
one  'oman  to  de  mile.  Phyllis  ain't  gwine." 

The  closing  words  faded  to  soliloquy.  For  every 
one  stood  up,  and  even  the  old  woman's  attention  was 
diverted  to  Watson's  apprentice  approaching  from  the 
captain's  room.  On  his  way  below  for  the  doctor  he 

415 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

came,  in  the  actor's  behalf,  to  ask  if  he  might  bring  up 
also  Mrs.  Gilmore. 

Assuredly  he  might.    How  was  the  patient? 

"Very  quiet,"  the  boy  hopefully  replied.  Where 
upon  madame  begged  leave  to  repair  at  once  to  the 
sick-room,  but  neither  of  the  Courteneys  would  consent 
nor  either  of  them  allow  the  other  to  go.  The  steers 
man  passed  on  down. 

From  enviously  watching  him  do  so,  "California" 
turned  to  the  company  and  in  open  abandonment  of 
his  amazing  proposition  said  drolly  that  never  before 
had  he  failed,  in  so  many  ways  "hand-running,"  to 
make  himself  useful.  He  reseated  Madame  Hayle 
and  would  have  set  the  daughter  beside  her,  but  the 
mother  bade  Ramsey  give  Joy  the  chair  and  leaned 
wearily  on  the  old  woman's  shoulder.  Both  Courteneys 
urged  their  seats  on  the  girl,  and  when  she  would  not 
accept  while  either  of  them  stood  for  her  servant  to 
sit,  the  grandfather  left  Hugh  debating  with  her,  took 
"California's"  arm,  found  other  chairs  a  few  paces 
away,  and  engaged  him  in  a  gentle  parley  which  any  one 
might  see  was  an  appeal  to  his  sober  second  thought. 
It  was  Ned's  shift  up  at  the  wheel,  but  the  change  of 
watch  was  near;  his  partner  stood  at  his  elbow.  Their 
gaze  was  up  a  reach  between  the  two  most  northern 
of  those  four  groups  of  bluffs  whose  mention  even 
Ramsey  was  for  the  moment  tired  of,  yet  they  studied 
the  three  couples  on  the  roof  below. 

"Runs  smooth  at  the  present  writing,"  said  Wat 
son. 

416 


LOVE  MAKES  A  CUT-OFF 

"Clair  chann'l  ef  noth'n'  else,"  responded  Ned. 
The  allusion  was  neither  to  boat  nor  stream  but  to  a 
certain  opportuneness  of  things,  whose  obviousness  to 
them,  looking  down,  was  mainly  what  kept  Ramsey 
standing.  While  she  stood  beside  the  two  empty 
chairs  cross-questioning  Hugh  with  a  fresh  show  of  her 
maturer  mildness  and  he  stood  inwardly  taking  back 
his  late  farewell  to  sweet  companionship  and  softly  an 
swering  in  his  incongruous  pomp  of  voice  with  a  new 
tenderness,  and  while  the  worn-out  mother  gradually 
let  her  full  weight  sink  on  the  tired  slave,  this  obvious 
propitiousness  was  embarrassingly  increased  by  the 
two  weary  ones  falling  asleep. 

True,  the  clearness  of  channel — this  channel  in  the 
upper  air — was  not  absolute,  but  its  obstacles  nettled 
mostly  the  pilots.  To  Ramsey,  even  to  Hugh,  obsta 
cles  were  almost  welcome,  as  enabling  them  to  show 
to  a  prying  world  that  nothing  beyond  the  grayest 
commonplace  was  occurring  between  them.  One  such 
interruption  was  the  upcoming  and  passing  of  Mrs. 
Gilmore  and  the  physician  to  the  sick-room  and  the 
cub  pilot's  parting  with  them  to  join  the  younger  pair. 
The  boy  found  Hugh  confessing  that  he  should  not 
know  exactly  how  to  word  Phyllis's  "free  papers"  but 
adding  that  the  first  clerk  would  be  pleased  to  make 
them  out  at  once  if  Ramsey's  eagerness  so  dictated. 
It  did,  and  presently  the  modest  intruder  was  hurrying 
away  on  a  double  errand:  to  bear  this  confidential 
request  to  the  clerk  and  then  to  seek  the  Brothers  Am 
brosia  and  with  them  and  the  two  under-clerks  arrange 

417 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

for  the  evening  performance,  the  giving  of  which,  how 
ever,  Ramsey  insisted,  must  depend  on  the  captain's 
condition  when  evening  should  come. 

"Wish  it  were  here  now/'  she  said  as  they  watched 
the  messenger  go.  "Don't  you?" 

"I  could,"  he  replied,  "but  it  will  be  here  soon 
enough." 

The  conversation  which  followed  remained  in  their 
memory  through  years  of  separation. 

She  spoke  again  in  her  new  tone:  "You  think  your 
father  will  get  well,  don't  you?" 

"No,  Ramsey." 

At  those  words  her  heart  did  two  things  at  once: 
stopped  on  the  first,  rebounded  on  the  second.  But 
it  fell  again  as  he  added :  "  I  fear  I  must  lose  my  father 
to-night." 

She  stood  mute,  looking  into  his  eyes  and  pondering 
every  light  and  shadow  of  the  severe  young  face  that 
to  her  seemed  so  imperially  unlike  all  others.  "He's 
great,"  she  said  in  her  heart.  "And  he  loves  with  his 
greatness.  Loves  even  his  father  that  way;  not  as  I 
love  mine  or  love  anybody,  or  ever  shall  or  can,  or 
could  wish  to,  unless  I  were  a  man  and  as  great  as 
him — he.  I  never  could  have  dreamt  of  any  one  lov 
ing  me  that  way,  but  if  any  ever  should  I'd  worship 
him."  Suddenly  her  sympathy  rose  high. 

"Oh,  why  not  just  think  to  yourself:  'He  will  live'?" 

"Why  should  I?  Should  I  be  fit  to  live  myself  if  I 
were  not  true  to  myself?" 

"You  are!    You  always  are!" 

418 


LOVE  MAKES  A  CUT-OFF 

"No  one  can  be  who  isn't  truthful  to  himself." 

Ramsey  gazed  again.  A  sense  of  his  suffering  be 
numbed  her,  and  for  relief  she  asked:  "Is  that  why 
you  don't  wish  it  were  evening,  when  really  you 
do?" 

He  smiled.  "I  can't  wish  the  sun  to  get  out  of  my 
way.  That's  what  it  would  mean,  isn't  it?" 

She  fell  to  thinking  what  it  meant.  All  at  once 
she  pointed:  "That's  the  First  Chickasaw  Bluff.  .  .  . 
Yes,  I  s'pose  it  does  mean  that.  .  .  .  It's  terrible  how 
thoughtless  I  am." 

"It  doesn't  terrify  me.  I  promise  you  it  never 
shall." 

Was  he  making  game  of  her?  She  narrowed  her 
lids  and  looked  at  him  sidewise.  No,  plainly  he  was 
not;  so  plainly  that  she  took  refuge  in  another  ques 
tion.  "Don't  you  like  night  better  than  day  some 
times?" 

"I  do,  often." 

"Why?" 

"For  one  thing,  we  can  see  so  much  farther." 

"Oh,  ridiculous!  we  can't  see  nearly  so  far!" 

"We  can  see  so  much  farther  and  wider,  deeper, 
clearer.  The  day  blinds  us.  Spoils  our  sense  of  pro 
portion.  At  night  we  see  more  of  what  creation  really 
is.  Our  sun  becomes  one  little  star  among  thousands 
of  greater  ones,  and  we  are  humbled  into  a  reason 
ableness  which  is  very  hard  not  to  lose  in  the  bewil 
derments  of  daylight." 

Ramsey  sank  to  the  arm  of  a  chair,  but  when  he 

419 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

remained  standing  she  stood  again.  "  Wasn't  you  say 
ing  something  like  that  the  evening  we  left  New  Or 
leans?"  she  asked. 

"To  my  father,  yes.  I  couldn't  have  said  it  in  day 
light  then.  I  couldn't  say  it  in  daylight  now  to  any 
one  but  you,  Ramsey." 

Her  heart  leaped  again.  Her  eyes  looked  straight 
into  his;  could  not  look  away.  He  spoke  on: 

"You're  a  kind  of  evening  to  me,  yourself;  evening 
star." 

Her  bosom  pounded.  She  glanced  up  behind  to  the 
pilots.  Watson  had  the  wheel.  As  she  strenuously 
pushed  back  her  curls  she  felt  her  temples  burn.  She 
could  have  cried  aloud  for  Hugh  to  cease,  yet  was  mad 
for  him  to  go  on. 

And  so  he  did.  "You  are  my  evening  star  in  this 
nightfall  of  affliction.  I  tell  you  so  not  in  weakness  but 
in  strength  and  in  defiance:  in  the  strength  I  summon 
for  the  hour  before  me;  in  the  defiance  I  fling  to  your 
brothers.  I  may  never  have  another  chance.  If  ours 
were  the  ordinary  chances  of  ordinary  life  I  should 
say  nothing  now.  I  should  wait;  wait  and  give  love 
time;  time  to  prove  itself  in  me — in  both  of  us.  I  ask 
nothing.  I  am  too  new  to  you,  life  is  too  new — to 
you — for  pledges." 

She  flashed  him  a  glance  and  then,  looking  up  the 
river,  said,  with  the  ghost  of  a  toss:  "I'm  older  than 
you  think." 

He  ignored  the  revelation.  "  But  I  will  say,"  he  went 
on,  " — for  these  three  days  and  nights  have  been  three 

420 


For  I  believe  that  we  belong  to  each  other  from  the  centre  of  our 
souls,  by  a  fitness  plain  even  to  the  eyes  of  your  brothers  " 


LOVE  MAKES  A  CUT-OFF 

years  to  me  and  I  feel  a  three  years'  right  to  say — I 
love  you;  love  you  for  life;  am  yours  for  life  though  we 
never  meet  again.  For  I  believe  that  we  belong  to 
each  other  from  the  centre  of  our  souls,  by  a  fitness 
plain  even  to  the  eyes  of  your  brothers." 

Still  looking  up  the  flood  and  red  from  brow  to 
throat,  Ramsey  murmured  two  or  three  words  which 
she  saw  he  did  not  hear.  Yet  he  stood  without  sound 
or  look  to  ask  what  she  had  said,  and  presently  re 
peated  : 

"I  believe  in  God's  sight  we  belong  to  each  other." 

"So  do  I,"  said  Ramsey  again,  with  clearer  voice 
and  with  her  brimming  eyes  looking  straight  into  his. 
A  footfall  turned  her  and  she  faced  the  relieved  pilot. 

"Isn't  this  Island  Thirty-three,"  she  asked,  "right 
here  on  our  stabboard. bow?" 

"Thirty-three,"  assented  Ned.  "Alias  Flour  Is 
land;  but  not  Flow-er  Island.  Flour-ladened  flatboats 
wrecked  there  in  the  days  o'  yo'  grandfather,  Eliph- 
alet  Hayle,  whose  own  boats  they  might  'a'  been, 
only  Hayles  ain't  never  been  good  at  losin'  boats. 
But  his'n  or  not,  can  you  suspicion  they  wuz  flow-er- 
ladened?  Shucks!  them  that  spell  it  that-a-way  air 
jest  as  bad  an'  no  wuss  than  them  that  stick  6  onto 
Plum  in  Plum  P'int  an'  pull  the  y  out  o'  Hayle  fo' 
Hayle's  P'int!  They  jest  a-airin'  they  ignorance. 
Some  fellers  love  to  air  they  ignorance.  I  do,  myself." 

He  gave  these  facts  of  topography  in  reward  of  the 
grave  interest  that  Hugh — elated  interest  that  Ram 
sey — still  seemed  to  take  in  all  such  items,  as  well  as 

421 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

to  allow  them  to  infer  that  he  had  not  noticed  them 
betraying  interest  in  anything  more  personal. 

"Hayle's  P'int —  "  he  resumed,  and  when  Madame 
Hayle  and  old  Joy  roused  and  glanced  around  on  him, 
while  the  senator  and  the  general  reappeared  close  by, 
looking  back  down  the  steamer's  wake  with  military 
comments  on  the  First  Chickasaw  Bluff,  just  left  be 
hind,  he  addressed  them  all  as  one.  Hayle's  Point, 
he  persisted,  was  miles  away  yet  and  comparatively 
unimportant  "considerin'  its  name,"  but  the  small 
cluster  of  houses  on  the  Arkansas  side  up  in  the  next 
bend  was  Osceola,  where  Plum  Point  Bars  made  the 
"  wickedest "  bit  of  river  between  Saint  Louis  and  the 
Gulf;  a  bit  that  "killed"  at  least  one  steamboat  every 
year.  He  said  they  were  then  passing  a  sand-bar, 
under  water  at  this  stage,  which  had  been  Island 
Thirty-two  until  "swallered  whole"  by  the  "big  earth 
quake"  of  1811. 

"Better'n  forty  year'  ago,  that  was.  Only  quake 
ever  felt  in  these  parts,  but  so  big  that,  right  in  the 
middle  of  all  the  b'ilin'  an'  staggerin'  an'  sinkin'  down 
to  Chiny,  the  Mis'sippi  River  give  birth  to  her  fust 
steamboat — an'  saved  it!"  So  he  continued,  egged  on 
by  the  conviction  that,  over  and  above  the  intrinsic 
value  of  the  facts,  these  conversational  eddies  outside 
the  current  of  incident  "a-happ'min'  to  'em  yit"  helped 
forward  his  two  most  deeply  interested  hearers  on  that 
course  erroneously  supposed  never  to  run  smooth. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  the  two  pilots'  joint  theory  of 
maxims  working  as  well  backward  as  forward  worked 

422 


LOVE  MAKES  A  CUT-OFF 

here;  deep  waters  ran  still.  Love,  that  is,  having  broken 
intolerable  bounds  in  one  short  fierce  "chute"  of  dec 
laration,  was  content  to  run  deep  and  still  and  to 
give  broad  precedence  to  duties,  sorrows,  and  courte 
sies.  The  pair  noticeably  drifted  apart  and  conversed 
with  others  when  others  were  quite  willing  they  should 
drift  together.  Madame  Hayle  needed  but  a  glance 
or  so  to  perceive  that  something  beautiful  had  hap 
pened  in  the  spiritual  experience  of  her  daughter. 
By  and  by  when  the  commodore  and  the  Californian 
rejoined  the  group,  Hugh  and  his  grandfather  spent  a 
still  moment  looking  into  each  other's  eyes  and  when 
both  gazes  relaxed  at  once  the  story  had  been  told  and 
understood. 

They  turned  to  hear  what  was  passing  between  the 
general,  senator,  and  Californian.  Said  the  soldier: 

"Sssirs,  I  only  insssist  that  if  this  region  ever 
sees  war  Port  Hudson,  Grand  Gulf,  Vvvicksburg, 
these  fffour  Chickasaw  Bluffs,  and  Island  Ten  up 
here  above  us  will  be  imp-regnably  fffortified." 

Ramsey  turned  to  the  actor's  wife  as  she  came  from 
the  texas. 

"How's  the  captain?"  asked  both  she  and  her 
mother.  But  Mrs.  Gilmore  was  too  overcome  to 
reply. 

Ramsey  saw  the  actor  at  the  stateroom  door.  He 
had  beckoned.  Hugh  and  the  grandfather  were  on 
their  way.  At  a  quieter  pace  the  four  women  followed 
and  more  slowly  still  the  other  four  men.  Reaching 
Gilmore,  the  Courteneys  paused  and  spoke,  then  looked 

423 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

back  to  Ramsey  and  madame,  and  beckoned — Hugh 
to  the  mother,  the  commodore  to  Ramsey.  Gilmore 
repeated  the  gesture  and  they  glided  forward.  At 
the  same  time  the  player  advanced  to  meet  his  wife, 
and,  as  if  some  intuition  had  rung  the  call,  the  scene- 
loving  twins  appeared  in  the  senator's  halted  group  and 
stood  with  them  gazing,  while  Madame  Hayle,  the 
commodore,  Ramsey,  and  Hugh  entered  the  captain's 
room. 


424 


LVI 
EIGHT  YEARS  AFTER 

"A  HUNDRED  months,"  says  the  love-song  that  be 
guiled  so  many  thousands  of  hearts  throughout  the 
Mississippi  Valley  in  those  old  "Lily  Dale,"  "Nellie 
Gray,"  "What  is  Home  Without  a  Mother?"  days, 
when  the  lugubrious  was  so  blithely  enjoyed  at  the 
piano.  Its  first  wails  date  nearly  or  quite  back  to 
October,  1860. 

"A  hundred  months  had  passed"  since  that  first  up 
stream  voyage  of  the  Votaress,  or,  to  be  punctilious, 
something  under  a  hundred  and  two.  It  was  the  open 
ing  week  of  that  mid-autumn  month  in  which  it  be 
came  evident  that  Abraham  Lincoln  would  be  the  next 
president.  Another  new  boat,  new  pride  of  the  great 
river,  the  fairest  yet,  still  in  the  hands  of  her  contract 
ors,  and  on  her  trial  trip  from  Louisville  to  New  Or 
leans,  was  rounding,  one  after  another,  now  far  in  the 
east,  now  as  far  in  the  west,  the  bends  nearest  below 
Memphis:  Cow  Island,  Cat  Island,  St.  Francis,  Delta 
— so  on. 

The  river  was  low.  You  would  hardly  have  known  a 
reach,  a  cut-off,  a  point  of  it  by  any  aspect  remembered 
from  that  journey  of  April,  '52.  Scantness  of  waters 

425 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

appeared  to  contract  distances.  "Paddy's  Hen  and 
Chickens,"  just  above  Memphis,  were  all  out  on 
dry  sands  and  seemed  closer  under  the  "Devil's  El 
bow"  than  eight  years  before.  Every  towhead  and 
bar  and  hundreds  of  snags  were  above  water  and  as 
ugly  as  mud,  age,  sun  bleach,  and  turkey-buzzards 
could  make  them.  Many  a  chute  comfortably  run 
by  the  Votaress  was  now  "  closed  for  repairs, "  said  one 
of  the  pilots  of  the  Enchantress.  He  was  the  whilom 
steersman  we  knew  as  Watson's  cub;  a  very  capable- 
looking  man  now.  At  the  moment,  he  was  off  watch 
and  had  come  out  from  the  bar  to  the  boiler  deck  with 
a  trim,  supple  man  of  forty,  whose  shirt  of  fine  white 
flannel  was  open  at  the  throat,  where  a  soft  neckerchief 
of  red  silk  matched  the  sash  at  his  waist:  "California," 
eight  years  older  and  out  of  the  West  again  despite  his 
"never"  to  Hayle's  twins. 

"I  like  to  change  my  mind  sometimes,"  he  explained. 
"It  shows  me  I've  got  one." 

A  towering,  massive,  grizzly  man  several  years  older 
than  the  Californian,  with  a  short,  stiff,  throat-latch 
beard  and  a  great  bush  of  dense,  short  curls,  stood  by 
the  forward  guards,  a  picture  of  rude  force  and  high 
efficiency.  At  every  moment,  from  some  direction 
among  the  deck's  loungers  a  light  scrutiny  ventured 
to  rest  on  him,  to  which  he  seemed  habituated,  and  the 
lightest  was  enough  to  reveal  in  him  a  striking  union 
of  traits  coarse  and  fine.  He  wore  a  big  cluster  dia 
mond  pin,  a  sort  of  hen-and-chickens  of  his  own,  se 
cured  by  a  minute  guard-chain  on  a  ruffled  shirt-front 

426 


EIGHT  YEARS  AFTER 

of  snowiest  linen,  where  clung  dry  crumbs  of  the  "  fine- 
cut"  which  puffed  the  lower  side  pockets  of  his  gray 
alpaca  sack  coat.  His  gold-headed  cane  was  almost 
a  bludgeon.  He  had  come  aboard  at  Memphis,  having 
reached  that  city  but  a  few  hours  earlier  by  rail 
way  train  from  White  Sulphur  Springs,  Va.,  where  he 
had  had  the  good  fortune  to  find  great  relief  from 
rheumatism.  The  young  lady  in  his  company,  now 
back  in  the  ladies'  cabin,  was  his  daughter,  they  said, 
beautiful  and  all  of  twenty-two,  yet  unmarried!  This 
man  the  pilot  and  the  Californian  approached  and 
waited  for  his  attention.  When  he  gave  it  the  pilot 
spoke. 

"  Commodore,"  he  said,  "welcome  back  to  the  river." 

The  big  man  grew  bigger  and  his  shaggy  brows  more 
severe. 

"I  feel  welcome,"  he  said.  "Only  place  under 
God's  canopy  where  I  can  breathe  down  into  my 
boots." 

"And  you  want  the  roof  for  it  here,  don't  you?  I 
do.  Roof  or  wheel.  Commodore  Hayle,  my  friend 
Mr.  So-and-so,  from  California.  He's  your  brand; 
Kentuck'  born  and  raised." 

The  two  shook  hands,  scanning  each  other's  counte 
nances.  The  eyes  of  both  were  equally  blue,  equally 
intrepid. 

"Are  you  the  man — ?"  Hayle  began  to  ask  with 
grim  humor. 

"I  think  so." 

"Well,  my  boy,  I've  been  wanting  to  see  you  for 
427 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

better  than  eight  years."  The  speaker  glanced  around 
for  privacy. 

"Come  up,"  said  the  pilot;  "I'm  just  going  on 
watch."  They  followed  him.  On  the  roof  he  con 
tinued  : 

"Seen  Captain  Hugh  yet,  commodore?  He's  sure 
enough  captain  now,  you  know;  youngest  on  the  river. 
He  was  looking  for  you  a  bit  ago.  This  is  a  beautiful 
boat  he's  going  to  have,  eh?" 

"Humph,  yes.  Votaress  over  again."  The  critic 
gave  her  a  fresh  scrutiny  from  cutwater  to  stern  rail, 
from  freight  guards  to  the  oak-leaf  crown  on  either 
chimney-top. 

"Why,  commodore,  she  knocks  the  hindsights  off 
the  old  Votaress  every  way.  You'll  see  that  mighty 
quick." 

"Humph,  yes;  best  yet,  of  the  Courteney  type. 
Ridiculous,  how  they  hang  to  that.  I'll  build  a  boat 
to  beat  her  inside  a  year  if  old  Abe  ain't  elected.  If 
he  is,  we'll  just  build  gunboats  and  raise  particular 
hell."  On  the  skylight  the  speaker  amiably  declined 
to  climb  any  higher. 

"No,  us  two  Kentuck's  will  try  it  here."  The  pair 
found  seats  together,  and  soon  the  Californian  was 
making  the  best  of  an  opportunity  he,  no  less  than 
Gideon  Hayle,  had  coveted  for  eight  years.  It  in 
terested  him  keenly,  as  affording  a  glimpse  into  the 
famous  boatman's  character,  that  the  latter  showed  a 
grasp  of  the  dreadful  voyage's  story  as  vivid  and  clear 
in  each  of  its  two  versions — the  mother  and  daughter's 

428 


EIGHT  YEARS  AFTER 

and  the  twins' — as  though  the  intervening  months  had 
been  one  instead  of  a  hundred — and  two. 

They  rehearsed  together  the  arrival  of  the  Votaress 
at  Louisville  in  the  dead  of  night;  confessed  the  folly 
of  any  "outsider"  seeking  the  grief -burdened  Gideon's 
ear  in  that  first  hour  of  reunion  with  his  family,  and 
the  equal  unwisdom  of  his  pressing,  in  such  an  hour, 
an  acute  personal  question  upon  Hugh  and  his  grand 
father  who,  at  Paducah,  had  just  buried  John  Courte- 
ney. 

"And  you've  never  pressed  it  sence?"  asked  "Cali 
fornia." 

"Mm-no." 

"Nor  let  either  o'  them  press  it?" 

"  No ! " — a  sturdy  oath — "  nor  you  nor  anybody  alive. 
Go  on  with  your  story." 

The  gold  hunter  went  on  unruffled;  told  it  as  he 
had  seen  it  occur;  recounted,  among  other  things,  how, 
on  the  final  landing  of  the  immigrants,  at  Cairo,  Mar 
burg  and  not  a  few  besides  had  covered  Madame 
Hayle's  hands  with  kisses  and  tears  and  would  have 
done  Hugh  Courteney's  so  could  they  have  got  at 
him.  His  hearer  frowned  and  set  his  big  jaw,  but  the 
narrative  flowed  on,  describing  how,  like  Marburg, 
many  had  waved  affectionate  farewells  to  Hugh  and 
to  Ramsey  which  she  could  guess  no  reason  for  in  her 
case  except  her  own  wet  eyes,  but  which  "California" 
saw  was  because,  through  himself  and  Phyllis,  the  im 
migrants  had  found  her  out  as  another  who  believed 
in  letting  the  oppressed  go  free  and  come  free.  He 

429 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

told  even  those  irrelevant  things  about  himself  which 
had  made  him  ludicrous.  They  imparted  a  needed 
lightness  and  kindled  the  big  commodore's  smile. 

"They  never  found  out,"  said  ''California,"  "that 
the  fellow  who  played  'Bounding  Billow'  and  'A  Life 
on  the  Ocean  Wave'  was  me — I — myself." 

He  told  all  as  honestly,  fearlessly  as  we  might  know 
he  would.  When  his  huge  listener  tried  to  say  off 
handedly  that  every  man  who  knew  anything  knew 
that  women  and  men  never  see  things  alike  and  that 
different  witnesses  could,  quite  honestly,  give  irrecon 
cilable  accounts  of  the  same  thing,  the  Californian 
serenely  waved  away  all  such  gloss  and  with  the  seated 
giant  hanging  over  him  like  a  thunder-cloud  said  that 
the  twins  could  never  see  anything  straight  enough  to 
tell  the  truth  about  it  if  they  wanted  to  and  that  just 
as  certainly  they  often  didn't  want  to.  Pausing  there 
and  getting  no  retort,  he  ventured  another  step.  Said 
he: 

"And  there  you've  hung  the  case  up  for  eight  years." 

"That's  my  business!"  Gideon  smote  the  arm  of 
his  chair. 

"California"  laughed  a  moment  like  a  girl,  with 
drooping  head.  Then — oh,  the  twins  had  their  good 
points,  yes.  One  was  the  way  they  stuck  to  each 
other.  And  their  biggest  virtue,  their  "best  holt,"  the 
one  their  worst  enemy  couldn't  help  liking  them  for, 
was  their  invincible  sand. 

"  The  devil  couldn't  scare  'em  with  his  tail  red-hot." 

At  that  the  father  laughed  gratefully. 

430 


EIGHT  YEARS  AFTER 

"They'd  ought  to  be  in  some  trade  where  pluck," 
the  Calif ornian  went  on,  "is  the  whole  show.  They'd 
ought  to  be  soldiers.  As  plain  up-and-down  fighters  for 
fight'n's  sake,  commodore,  they'd  hit  it  off  as  sweet  as 
blackstrap!" 

The  truth  smote  hard  but  the  parent  feigned  a  jovial 
inappreciation.  If  that  was  so  they  had  made  a  "  most 
damnable  misdeal,"  he  laughed,  having  settled  down  in 
Natchez  together,  "too  soft  on  each  other  to  marry 
and  as  tame  as  parrakeets";  Julian  as  county  sheriff, 
his  brother  a  physician. 

The  Calif  ornian  silently  doubted  the  tameness. 
Abruptly,  though  in  tones  of  worship,  he  inquired 
after  Madame  Hayle. 

Madame  just  then  was  at  home,  on  the  plantation 
at  Natchez.  Yes,  she  and  Ramsey  often  made  trips 
with  Gideon  on  that  Paragon  which  they  had  gone 
up  the  river  to  come  down  on,  in  '52.  The  Paragon, 
wonderfully  preserved,  was  still  in  the  "Vicksburg 
and  Bends"  trade  and  happened  then  to  be  some 
forty-eight  hours  ahead  of  the  Enchantress  and  nearing 
New  Orleans.  Madame  and  her  daughter  now  and 
then  spent  part  of  the  social  season  in  the  great  river's 
great  seaport,  which  was — "bound  to  be  the  greatest 
in  the  world,  my  boy,"  said  Gideon.  But  Ramsey— 

When  Ramsey  became  the  topic,  even  "California," 
while  the  father  boasted,  had  to  hold  on,  as  he  would 
have  said,  with  his  teeth  to  keep  from  being  blown 
away.  Her  "one  and  only  love"  was  the  river!  She 
"knew  it  like  a  pilot"  and  loved  it  and  the  whole  life 

431 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

on  it  not  merely  for  its  excitements,  variety,  and  out 
look  on  the  big  world. 

"That  is  to  say for  its  poetry,"  prompted  "Cali 
fornia." 

"Yes,  not  for  that  only  but  just  as  much  for  its 
prose,  by  Mike!  Why,  my  boy,  that's  all  that's  kept 
her  single!" 

"Except!"  said  the  Calif ornian  softly,  but  Gideon 
pressed  on.  "And  single,  now,  I  reckon,  she'll  always 
be.  Why,  sir,  not  a  day  breaks  but  she  knows,  within 
an  hour's  run,  the  whereabouts  of  every  Hayle  boat 
alive." 

"Some  Courteney  boats  too,  hmm?" 

"Why,  eh"— a  stare— "I  shouldn't  wonder.  Yes. 
Humph!  ' youngest  captain  on  the  river' — fact  is, 
that's  her.  Lady  as  she  is,  and  lovely  as  she  is,  she's 
a  better  steamboatman  to-day  than — than  many  a 
first-class  one.  She's  nearer  being  my  business 
partner  than  any  man  I  ever  hired." 

"Partner's  share  of  the  swag?" 

"No,"  laughed  the  giant,  "but  I'm  leaving  her  the 
boats." 

"Well,"  said  "California,"  "all  that's  good  prepa 
ration." 

The  huge  man  shot  him  a  glance  and  the  two 
pairs  of  blue  eyes  held  each  other.  Then  "California" 
smiled  his  winsomest  and  said:  "Did  you  ever  notice 
how  much  easier  you  can  see  through  the  ends  of  an 
iron  pipe  than  through  its  sides?" 

Gideon  stared.  "Humph!  Any  fool  that  wants  to 
432 


EIGHT  YEARS  AFTER 

see  through  me  may  see  and  be — joyful.  What  do 
you  think  you  see?" 

"Oh,  things  you'd  ought  to  thought  of  and  never 
have." 

"Why,  you  in'-     Well,  I'll  be  damned." 

"Shouldn't  wonder  a  bit,"  said  "California"  so 
amiably  that  the  big  man  laughed. 

"Maybe  you'll  tell  me  my  oversights!" 

"No,  but  you'll  be  told,  shortly,  if  the  man  I  think 
I  know  is  the  man  I — think  I  know.  Let's  pass  that 
now,  commodore.  Oh,  I  wish  you'd  been  with  us  on 
the  Votaress.  How  different  things  might  'a'  turned 
out.  You  know?  I  don't  believe  any  other  trip  on 
all  this  big  river,  barring  the  first  steamboat's  first, 
ever  made  so  big  a  turning-point  in  so  many  lives. 
Why,  jest  two  or  three  things  in  it,  things  and  people, 
made  me  another  man." 

"One  not  so  need'n'  to  be  hanged?" 

"Yes,  and  not  so  hungry  to  hang  other  fellers.  I 
hadn't  ever  met  up  with  such  aristocratic  stock  as  I 
did  then  but  I  tchuned  right  up  to  'em  and  I've  mighty 
nigh  held  their  pitch  ever  sence.  Fo'most  of  all  was 
this  Hugh  Courteney.  Fo'most  because,  he  being  a 
man,  I  wa'n't  afraid  of  him.  But  a  close  second  was 
yo'  daughter;  second  because,  she  being  a  woman,  I 
was  afraid  of  her.  Why,  even  Phyllis,  that's  now 
chambermaid  on  this  boat ; 

"By  Jupiter!"  Gideon  Hayle  half  started  from  his 
seat.  "On  this  boat?  our  Phyllis?  that  Ramsey  set 
free?" 

433 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Yes.    Captain  Hugh's  nurse  that  was." 
"Look  here,  my  boy,  is  that  why  you're  aboard?" 
"No,  sir-ee!    Don't  you  fret.    That  trip,  I  tell  you, 
made  another  man  of  me.    It  lifted;  why,  commodore, 
it  made  me  a  poet." 

"Made  you  a—     Oh,  go  'long  off!" 
"Yes,  sir.    Writ  poetry  ever  sence.    Dropped  prose; 
too  easy.    It's  real  poetry,  commodore;  rhymes  as  slick 
as  grease.    Show  you  some  of  it  later." 

"George!  if  you  do  I'll  jump  into  the  river." 
"Agreed!    I've  got  some  that'll  make  you  do  that." 
"You  haven't  got  any  that  wouldn't." 
Neither  smiled,  neither  frowned.     Obviously  each 
knew  how  to  like  an  adversary  and  when  "California" 
rose  and  the  two,  glancing  aft,  saw  another  two  ap 
proaching  from  the   pilot-house,   one   of  whom   was 
Watson,    Hayle   touched    the    poet    detainingly    and 
said : 

"Don't  go  'way,  I  want  some  more  of  your  prose." 
"Want  to  know  why  I'm  here?  Not  countin'  the 
fun  o'  seein'  Captain  Hugh,  half  the  reason's  that 
gentleman  yonder  comin'  with  Mr.  Watson,  and  the 
other  half's  his  lady,  down  below  a-powwowin'  with 
yo'  daughter.  Fact  is  I'd  struck  it  rich  again  out  West 
and  got  restless  and  come  East,  and  at  Saint  Louis  I 
see  by  a  newspaper  that  them  two  was  allowin'  to  go 
down  to  Orleans  on  this  boat  this  trip,  and  ree-collect- 
in'  the  pinch  they  got  into  of  old  on  the  Votaress,  s'l 
to  myself,  'me  too!' J 

Here  the  other  men  drew  near  and,  while  "Cali- 

434 


EIGHT  YEARS  AFTER 

fornia"  ran  on,  silently  pressed  the  big  hand  offered 
sidewise  by  Hayle. 

"And  with  that  I  set  down  and  writ  a  poem — took 
me  a  whole  night — to  the  best  half  dozen  o'  them  that 
was  on  the  other  trip,  invitin'  'em,  at  my  expense,  to 
jump  on  when  we  come  by — at  New  Carthage — Milli- 
ken's  Bend — Vicksburg — and  trustin'  to  luck  and  fresh 
post  stamps  to  find  'em.  But  little  did  we  dream  o' 
seein'  you  walk  aboard,  at  Memphis,  and  still  less  yo* 
daughter  and  her  old  Joy;  did  we,  Mr.  Gilmore?" 


435 


LVII 
FAREWELL,  "VOTARESS" 

MONTEZUMA  Bend.  .  .  .  Delta.  .  .  .  Delta  Bend. 
.  .  .  Friar's  Point.  .  .  .  Kangaroo  Point.  .  .  .  Horse 
shoe  Bend  and  Cut-off.  Some,  at  least,  of  these  we 
remember.  At  mention  of  them  the  Gilmores  and 
"California"  smiled — behind  Ramsey:  such  a  differ 
ent,  surpassingly  different  Ramsey! 

Near  the  Enchantress's  bell  these  four  and  old  Joy 
were  gathered  about  Gideon  Hayle,  Watson,  and  Hugh 
Courteney — such  an  inspiringly  different  Hugh!  Two 
or  three  showed  a  divided  attention,  letting  an  oc 
casional  glance  stray  down  the  waters  ahead,  where 
Old  Town  Bend  swung  from  west  to  south. 

At  the  same  moment,  in  Horseshoe  Cut-off,  some 
twelve  or  fifteen  miles  below,  another  swift,  handsome 
steamer,  upward  bound — the  great  river  could  hardly 
yet  show  more  than  one  handsomer — swept  into  the 
north  from  an  easterly  course  under  Island  Sixty-four 
and  pointed  up  the  middle  of  the  stream  to  pass  between 
Sixty-three  and  Sixty-two  where,  at  the  head  of  the 
reach,  they  parted  the  river  into  three  channels  and 
widened  it  to  more  than  a  league.  She  would  have 
been  an  animating  sight  if  only  for  the  fact  that  every 
soul  aboard  who  was  not  just  then  engaged  in  running 

436 


FAREWELL,  "  VOTARESS  " 

her  was  at  the  guards  of  one  or  another  of  her  grace 
ful  decks.  The  forecastle  was  darkened  by  her  crew 
standing  in  a  half  circle  about  the  capstan,  her  lar 
board  pantry  guards  were  crowded  with  white- jackets, 
her  roofs  were  gay  with  ladies  and  children.  In  elated 
oblivion  of  the  charming  picture  presented  by  their 
own  boat  and  themselves,  all  were  awaiting  a  spec 
tacle  which  their  pilots  and  captain  had  said  would 
surely  be  met  within  the  next  hour's  run. 

Although  behind  them  was  a  tortuous  fifty  miles  in 
which  hardly  more  signs  of  human  life  had  been  seen 
or  heard  than  if  their  way  had  been  on  the  open  At 
lantic,  the  beauty  of  the  wilderness  alone,  transfigured 
in  the  lights  of  the  declining  day,  might  well  have 
satisfied  the  eye.  A  red  sun  was  just  touching  the 
horizon.  Its  beams  and  the  blue  shadows  that  di 
vided  them  lay  level,  miles  long,  athwart  the  glassy 
stream  and  its  green  and  gray  forests  and  tapered  and 
vanished  in  a  low  eastern  haze.  The  tints  of  autumn 
already  prevailed  along  the  shores,  and  the  indolent 
waters  mirrored  the  reversed  images  of  the  two  islands 
in  outlines  clearer  than  their  own  and  from  bank  to 
bank  took  on  in  enriched  hues  the  many  colors  of  the 
sky.  At  the  far  end  of  the  reach,  between  and  some 
what  beyond  the  islands,  stood  well  out  of  the  shrunken 
flood  a  sand-bar,  its  middle  crested  green  and  gold 
with  young  poplars  and  willows,  all  its  ill  favor  made 
picturesque  and  the  whole  mass  glorified  by  the  sun 
set.  By  this  bar  the  waters  of  the  central  channel  were 
again  divided,  north  and  south,  and  the  steamer,  with 

437 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

another  eastward  turn,  straightened  up  for  the  south 
ern  passage  between  the  bar  and  Sixty-three. 

"We'll  pass  her  close,"  said  one  of  the  boat's  family 
to  those  who  hung  on  his  words.  "In  this  low  water 
she's  got  to  come  round  the  bar  and  well  over  to  the 
left  bank,  same  as  us." 

On  the  boiler  deck  and  on  the  roof  passengers  of  the 
kind  that  see  for  themselves  pointed  out  to  the  kind 
that  see  only  what  they  are  shown  the  smoke  of  an 
other  boat,  across  the  forests  on  the  Arkansas  side, 
in  Old  Town  Bend.  There  were  ways  for  some  to 
know  even  at  that  distance  that  she  was  a  craft  they 
had  never  yet  seen,  but  every  two  minutes  the  distance 
grew  less  by  a  mile.  Presently,  as  the  nearer  boat, 
giving  the  bar's  eastern  head  a  wide  berth,  swung  once 
more  into  the  north,  the  Enchantress  glided  into  view 
on  the  larboard  bow  hardly  two  miles  away.  But 
before  the  Enchantress  as  well,  looking  south  across 
the  same  interval,  gleamed  a  picture  worthy  of  her 
delight.  For  there  came  the  Votaress,  curling  white 
ribbons  from  her  cutwater,  her  people  waving  and 
cheering,  a  swivel  barking  from  her  prow,  and  the 
whistles  high  up  between  her  chimneys  roaring  in 
long  salute. 

By  no  premeditation  could  the  unpremeditated  scene 
have  been  finer.  The  Votaress,  as  she  took  the  wider 
circuit  against  the  Mississippi  shore,  caught  the  whole 
power  of  the  setting  sun  on  all  her  nearer  side  while 
she  swept  close  along  an  undivided  curtain  of  autumn 
forest  drenched  in  the  same  sunlight  and  quaking  to 

438 


FAREWELL,  "  VOTARESS  " 

her  sudden  breeze.  North  and  west  of  her,  where  the 
sand-bar  lay  bare  of  trees,  the  Enchantress,  larger, 
stronger,  swifter,  moved  in  her  own  shade  but  was  set 
against  the  far  splendor  of  a  saffron,  green,  and  crim 
son  sky  in  which  the  fiery  sun  showed  only  its  upper 
half  sinking  beneath  the  landscape.  The  lights  of  all 
her  decks,  just  lit,  gave  no  vivid  ray  but  glinted  like 
gems  on  a  court  lady.  Her  bridal  whiteness  was  as 
pure  hid  from  the  sunbeams  as  her  sister's  bathed  in 
them.  From  both  the  high  black  smoke  streamed 
away  through  the  evening  calm  and  from  their  twin 
kling  wheels  the  foam  swept  after  them  like  trains  of 
lace.  We  speak  for  our  poet,  who,  lacking  fit  imagery 
of  his  own,  recalled  one  of  Jenny  Lind's  songs: 

"I  see  afar  thy  robe  of  snow, 
I  see  thy  dark  hair  wildly  flow, 
I  hear  thy  airy  step  so  light, 
Thou  com'st  to  wish  thy  love  good  night. 
Good  night,  my  love,  good  night." 

Good  night,  Votaress!  He  could  not  know,  nor 
Ramsey,  nor  any  of  those  among  whom  they  stood, 
that  these  bends  were  never  again  to  see  you  in  your 
beauty— though  in  tragedy,  yes!  yes!  They  knew 
that  in  the  shipyards  of  the  Ohio  you  were  to  receive 
a  beautiful  rejuvenation;  but  knew  not  that  then,  as  a 
dove  may  be  caught  by  a  lynx,  you  were  to  be  caught 
by  a  great  war,  a  war  greater  than  the  great  river, 
and  should  return  to  these  scenes  a  transport;  a  poor, 
scarred,  bedraggled  consort  to  gunboats;  slow  rep- 

439 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

tilian  monsters  of  iron  ugliness  and  bellowing  ferocity. 
They  knew  not  of  days  when  you  must  swarm  with 
blue  soldiers — including  Marburg — sometimes  hot  and 
merry  for  battle,  sometimes  shot-torn,  fever-wasted, 
yellow-eyed,  a  human  rubbish  of  camp  and  siege, 
lighter  part  of  the  deadly  price  of  conquered  strong 
holds  and  fallen  cities — Forts  Henry  and  Donelson, 
Columbus,  Island  Ten,  Fort  Pillow,  Port  Hudson, 
Vicksburg,  Memphis;  or  that,  after  all,  in  recovered 
decency,  honored  poverty,  you  should  wear  out  a 
gentle  old  age  as  a  wharf-boat  to  your  unspeakable 
inferiors.  And  neither  could  they,  those  voyagers  on 
the  new  steamer,  foresee  the  happier  vision  of  their 
Enchantress  living  through  the  war  charmedly  un 
scathed,  sharing  the  palmiest  days  of  the  Mississippi's 
navigation  without  ever  being  surpassed  in  speed  or 
beauty,  even  by  younger  Courteney  boats,  and  at  last 
falling  asleep  peaceably  at  her  moorings  hard  by  the 
vast  riverside  railway  warehouses  on  the  outskirts  of  a 
greater  New  Orleans. 

All  this  forces  its  way  through  the  mind  while  we 
see  the  meeting  boats  cover  half  the  run  between 
them.  On  the  Enchantress  a  deck-hand  mounted  the 
capstan. 

"They're  going  to  sing,"  hurriedly  said  Ramsey  to 
Hugh.  "I  wish  they'd  sing  "Lindy  Lowe'  that  I've 
heard  about!" 

And  whether  by  happy  chance  or  on  some  signal 
dropped  down  from  him  or  because  the  chantey  was  a 
new  one  and  the  crew  were  glad  to  show  it  off,  it  was 

440 


FAREWELL,  "VOTARESS" 

chosen.  The  two  steamers  passed  close  with  a  happy 
commotion  throughout  both  and  the  song  swelled. 
Then  the  wooded  crest  of  the  bar  hid  each  from  each, 
and  Hugh  turned  to  Gideon:  "Now,  commodore,  if 
Miss  Hayle  is  willing  I'd  like  to  take  you  both  below 
and  show  you  over  the  boat — before  supper." 

When  their  descent  brought  them  to  the  boiler  deck 
the  song  was  yet  in  full  swing.  When,  passing  on  down, 
they  reached  the  engine  room  the  fact  was  amusingly 
clear  to  many  on  all  decks,  among  them  the  Gilmores, 
the  Californian,  and  Watson,  that  the  singers  had  lit 
on  a  new  bearing  for  their  lines  and  were  singing  them 
now  in  compliment  to  a  certain  two  whose  story  was 
by  this  time  known  to  all  on  board.  Whether,  back 
between  the  sweeping  cranks  and  shafts  of  the  two 
great  engines  and  wheels,  behind  the  "doctor"  and 
the  "donkey"  and  with  Hugh  and  Ramsey  at  his 
elbows,  the  alert  Gideon  heard  the  song  at  all  was 
doubtful;  so  deep  in  debate  were  the  two  men,  the 
quiet  and  the  loud,  on  dimensions  and  powers:  length, 
beam,  hold,  stroke,  diameters  of  cylinders  and  of 
wheels,  in  such  noted  cases  as  the  Chevalier,  the 
Eclipse,  the  J.  M.  White,  the  Natchez,  Antelope,  Para 
gon,  Quakeress,  and  Autocrat.  The  three  were  there 
yet  when  the  song's  last  echo  died,  with  Island  Sixty- 
four  eastward  astern,  Sixty-five  southward  ahead,  the 
brief  twilight  failing  and  the  supper  bell  ringadang- 
dinging. 

At  table  a  far-away  whistle  softly  roared  and  the 
Enchantress  sonorously  responded. 

441 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"A  Hayle  boat,"  said  Ramsey  to  Hugh;  "the 
Regent." 

"And  we're  singing  'Lindy'  again!"  said  Mrs.  Gil- 
more. 

Gideon,  busy  talking  a  few  seats  away,  talked 
straight  on,  but  a  cloud  on  his  brow  showed  now  that 
he  had  heard  the  song  the  earlier  time.  Every  one 
tried  hard  to  listen  to  him  and  the  melody  with  the 
same  ears.  Under  the  table  somebody's  toe  had  no 
better  manners  than  gently  to  beat  time. 


442 


LVIII 
'LINDY  LOWE 


COME,  smil-in'  'Lind-y      Lowe, ....        de    pooti  -  ess    gal     I 


know,...     On  de  fin- ess   boat  dat    ev-eh   float,  In  de    O     -     hi    - 

^P-^^=2=*— c    t    g^'      rj    1""^^ 

o,      De    Mas  -  sis  -  sip  -   pi      aw      de       O       -       hi  o. 

COME,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  teef  whiteh  dan  de  snow, 
On  de  finess  boat  dat  eveh  float, 

In  de  O — hi — o, 
De  Mas — sis — sip — pi  aw  de  O — hi — o. 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  to  de  Lou'siana  sho', 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  by  de  Gu'f  o'  Mexico, 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  to  de  bayous  deep  an'  slow, 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  whah  de  moss  wave,  to  an'  fro, 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  de  bell  done  ring  to  go, 
(Chorus) 

443 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  whah  de  muscadimons  grow, 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  befo'  de  whistle  blow', 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  de  pride  o'  Lake  St.  Jo', 

(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  I  love'  you  long  ago, 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  I'll  love  you  mo'  an'  mo', 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  how  kin  you  treat  me  so? 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  whah  de  sweet  pussimmon  grow', 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  de  steam-kyahs  runs  too  slow, 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  whah  de  blue  pon'-lily  grow, 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  O  don't  you  tell  me  no! 

(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  I's  bound  to  be  yo'  beau, 

(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  whah  de  wile  white  roses  grow, 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  de  fust  of  all  de  row, 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  eyes  sweeteh  dan  de  doe, 
(Chorus) 

444 


'LINDY  LOWE 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  whah  de  white  magnonia  blow', 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  an'  awake  up,  fiddle  an'  bow, 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  we'll  a-dance  de  heel  an'  toe, 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  to  de  tchune  o'  Jump,  Jim  Crow, 
(Chorus) 

Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  come,  de  pootiess  gal  I  know, 
On  de  finess  boat  dat  eveh  float' 

In  de  O — hi — o, 
De  Mas — sis — sip — pi  aw  de  O — hi — o. 


445 


LIX 
"CONCLUSIVELY" 

ALONE  in  the  wide  light  of  a  harvest-moon  that 
wrapped  all  shores  in  deep  shadow  and  turned  the  mid- 
channel  to  silver,  Hugh  and  Ramsey  stood  at  the  low 
front  rail  of  the  texas  roof. 

There  were  but  few  to  see  them,  but  every  eye  in 
range  was  aware  of  her  and  of  a  refined  simplicity  of 
dress  adorning  a  figure  whose  pliant  grace  was  the 
finishing  touch  to  her  joyous  erectness.  Hugh's  gaze 
was  frankly  on  her,  and  his  mind  on  the  first  night  he 
had  ever  seen  her,  when,  with  her  hair  wind-tossed  in 
loose  curls,  she  had  stood  at  this  spot  on  the  Votaress 
and  in  carelessness  of  a  whole  world  had  sung  "The 
Lone  Starry  Hours." 

Equally  distant  from  them  were  the  pilot-house 
behind  and  above  and  the  bell  down  forward  on  the 
skylight.  To  right  and  left  on  a  thwartship  line  just 
back  of  them  towered  the  chimneys  softly  giving  out 
their  titanic  respirations.  Watson,  though  off  watch, 
was  up  at  the  wheel  beside  his  partner,  pretending 
not  to  see  the  two  beneath.  In  other  words,  he  was 
still,  after  eight  and  a  half  years,  "in  the  game."  The 
Gilmores  were  with  him,  both  in  body  and  spirit. 

Out  forward  of  the  bell,  below  it  on  the  main  roof, 
446 


"CONCLUSIVELY" 

one  of  the  boat's  builders,  responsible  for  her  till  she 
should  reach  New  Orleans,  sat  in  the  captain's  chair. 

"After  eight  years  and  a  half,"  Hugh  himself  had 
gravely  begun  to  say  to  Ramsey,  when  two  men, 
"California"  and  a  fellow  smoker,  sauntered  across 
the  skylight  roof  close  below.  Gilmore,  up  in  the 
pilot-house,  was  annoyed. 

"Our  poet,"  he  murmured  to  his  wife,  "will  spill 
the  fat  into  the  fire  yet,  if  we  don't  stop  him." 

But  the  Californian  had  purposely  encumbered  him 
self  with  this  stranger  to  make  it  plain  that,  hover  as 
he  might,  he  waived  all  claim  to  her  attention.  What 
better  could  a  man  do?  And  now  he  forbore  even  to 
look  her  way.  The  abstention  was  as  marked  as  any 
look  could  have  been.  As  they  passed,  Hugh  was 
silent,  but  Ramsey  spoke,  her  speech  a  light  blend  of 
response  and  evasion. 

"On  the  Votaress,"  she  said,  "the  front  of  the  texas 
didn't  stand  out  forward  of  the  chimneys,  like  this." 

"Doesn't  this  make  a  handsomer  boat,"  the  lover 
asked,  "seen  either  aboard  or  from  the  shore?" 

Ramsey  said  yes,  she  had  noticed  the  improvement 
from  the  Memphis  wharf -boat.  "She  was  a  splendid 
sight;  yes,  out  in  the  stream,  just  before  her  wheels 
first  stopped.  At  least  she  was  to  any  one  loving  boats 
and  the  river." 

"Then  you  haven't  changed?"  asked  Hugh,  not  for 
information  but  in  the  tone  that  always  meant  so 
much  beneath  the  speech. 

Her  answer  was  merely  to  meet  his  gaze  with  a 
447 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

gentle  steadfastness,  each  knowing  that  the  other's 
mind  was  overcircling  all  the  years  that  had  divided 
them.  Through  those  years  they  had  exchanged  no 
spoken  or  written  word.  Yet  according  to  Watson 
true  love  finds  ways,  large  love  large  ways,  pure  love 
pure  ways.  Sometimes  love's  friends  really  help;  help 
find  ways,  or  keep  ways  found;  even  make  chutes  and 
cut-offs.  Gilmore,  Watson,  and  the  Vicksburg  mer 
chant  happened  to  be  Odd  Fellows,  and  the  Gilmores, 
to  whom  letter-writing  was,  next  to  their  profession, 
their  main  pleasure,  had  been  a  sort  of  clearing-house 
for  Friendship,  Love,  and  Truth — and  especially  for 
social  news — to  all  the  Votaress's  old  coterie;  Hugh, 
the  pairs  of  Milliken's  Bend,  Vicksburg,  and  Carthage, 
the  boat's  family,  Phyllis,  Madame  Hayle,  even  old 
Joy — with  madame  for  amanuensis — and  Ramsey  her 
self.  She  and  Hugh  had  followed  every  step  in  each 
other's  course,  upheld  by  a  simplicity  of  faith  in  friend 
ship,  love,  and  truth,  which  hardly  needed  to  ask  the 
one  question  abundantly  answered  by  this  steadfast 
ness  of  eye. 

Now  she  looked  away  to  the  moon's  path  on  the 
river,  and  the  question  of  change  came  back  from  her: 
"Have  you?" 

"Only  to  grow." 

"You  have  grown,"  she  said,  "every  way." 

"And  you,"  he  replied,  "every  beautiful  way.  I 
have  just  said  so  to  your  father." 

Her  response  came  instantly:  "How  did  that  hap 
pen?" 

448 


"  CONCLUSIVELY  " 

"We  made  it  happen." 

She  looked  at  him  again.  "We,"  of  course,  meant 
"I."  Truly  she  had  grown  every  beautiful  way,  but 
it  was  yet  as  wonderful  as  ever  to  stand,  saying  what 
she  had  said,  hearing  what  she  was  hearing,  eye  to 
eye,  open  soul  to  open  soul,  with  one  who  could  make 
words — words  at  any  rate — happen  between  himself 
and  Gideon  Hayle.  She  looked  this  time  not  alone 
into  his  eyes  but  on  all  his  unhandsome  countenance, 
and  in  a  surviving  upflare  of  her  younger  days'  ex 
travagance  thought  whether,  among  all  time's  heroes 
of  the  world's  waters,  there  had  ever  been  one  too 
great  for  Hugh  Courteney's  face.  So  looking  she 
thrilled  with  the  belief  that  there  was  nothing  such 
men  had  ever  done  which  this  one  might  not  some 
day,  the  right  day,  equal  or  surpass. 

Again  she  looked  away  and  as  she  looked  the  hover 
ing  Calif ornian  murmured  to  his  new-found  confidant: 

"You  can't  see  the  glory  of  her  in  this  light  nohow, 
unless  you'd  seen  her  already  in  the  full  blaze  of  the 
cabin,  or  of  broad  day,  with  the  light  in  that  red  hair. 
If  you  had  you  wouldn't  need  even  the  moonlight  now. 
You'd  only  need  to  know  she  was  there  and  you'd  see 
her  without  looking.  I  seen  her  in  her  first  long  dress, 
jest  a-learning  to  fly  and  some  folks  showing  no  more 
poetic  vision  than  to  call  her  '  almost  plain.'  I  saw  the 
loveliness  a-coming,  like  daybreak  in  the  mountains. 
And  he  saw  it.  I  saw  he  saw  it.  And  now?  I  tell 
you,  sir,  her  brow  is  like  the  snowdrift,  her  throat  is 
like  the  swan,  and  her  face  it  is  the  fairest — I  never 

449 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

seen  Annie  Laurie,  but  if  she's  better  looking  or  sweeter 
behaving — I'd  rather  not.  Anyhow  they're  enough 
alike  to  be  sisters.  I've  writ  a  poem  on  this  one.  Like 
to  show — hmm?  Hold  on.  It  don't  quite  suit  me  yet 
but — what's  your  hurry?  When  it  does,  I  Joe!  it'll 
be  a  ripsnorter.  I've  worked  eight  year  and  a  half 
on  it  and  they  say  genius  is  jest  a  trick  o'  takin'  in- 
fmitessimal  pains.  .  .  .  No,  I'm  not  sleepy.  Reckon 
I'll  go  up  to  the  pilot-house.  So  long.  Pleasant 
dreams." 

While  he  so  spoke  Ramsey  had  said:  "Here  comes 
another  boat,  down  in  the  next  bend.  Or  is  she  in 
the  chute?" 

"The  chute,"  replied  Hugh.  "That's  the  old  An- 
tekpe." 

"Ah,  up  and  running  again!  I  know  all  about  you 
and  the  Votaress  saving  her  people  that  awful  night 
she  sank." 

"Who  told  you?" 

"Oh,  a  dozen,  at  a  dozen  times;  but  the  best  was 
Phyllis,  writing  to  us." 

"Phyllis  behaved  heroically  that  night;  made  up  for 
all  the  past — though  really  she'd  done  that  before." 

"I'm  glad  you  feel  that  way,"  murmured  Ramsey 
and  suddenly  asked:  "Why  did  you  take  my  father  to 
your  room  just  now?" 

"To  show  him  the  plans  for  another  boat." 

"Humph!"  What  crystalline  honesty  was  in  his 
answers,  she  pondered.  They  were  as  prompt  as  a 
mirror's. 

450 


"  CONCLUSIVELY" 

"Rivals,"  she  remarked,  "don't  ordinarily  show 
plans." 

"Your  father  and  I  are  not  ordinary  rivals." 

What  did  that  mean?  Her,  and  not  mere  boats' 
plans?  She  did  not  look  at  him  this  time.  Like  "  Cali 
fornia"  she  could  see  without  looking.  "Think  I'll 
rejoin  the  Gilmores,"  she  sighed,  as  certain  couples 
came  up  to  see  the  Antelope  go  by.  She  feared  a  re 
currence  of  "  'Lindy  Lowe."  On  the  way  to  the  pilot 
house  she  leisurely  inquired: 

"Do  you  think  you'll  ever  build  a  finer  boat  than 
this?" 

"Yes,  and  larger,  and  faster." 

"Not  this  season?" 

"No,  I  should  hope  not  for  many.    Yet " 

"Boats'  lives,"  she  prompted,  "are  so  uncertain." 

"Yes,  grandfather  thinks " 

"  Oh,  if  only  he  were  here ! "  She  paused  to  let  Hugh 
notice  that  she  had  "were"  and  "was"  in  hand  at 
last.  Then: 

"How  long  will  that  boat  be?" 

"Three  hundred  and  thirty  feet.  She'll  have  ten 
boilers.  Her  cylinders  will  be  forty-three  inches,  her 
stroke  eleven  feet.  She'll  carry  eighty-five  hundred 
bales  of  cotton." 

"Goodness!    How  wide  will  she  be?" 

"In  the  beam  fifty.  Over  all,  at  the  wheelhouses, 
ninety.  Her  wheels  will  be  forty-five  feet  in  diameter 
and  their  buckets  nineteen  feet  span.  You  still  like 
figures,  boats'  figures,  I  hope?" 

451 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

She  still  liked,  for  second  choice,  to  make  him,  to 
herself,  ridiculous;  liked  it  even  now  while  inwardly 
laughing  and  weeping  at  him  for  not  coming  to  per 
sonal  matters  infinitely  more  important.  "Go  on," 
she  said,  "I  like  cabin  figures.  How  long,  wide,  and 
high  will  the  cabin  be?" 

"Two  hundred  and  sixty-three  by  nineteen  by  six 
teen." 

"What'll  her  name  be?  Another  e-double-s,  of 
course?" 

"No,  I've  just  been  telling  your  father — here  comes 
the  Antelope.  I  was  telling  him  that  grandfather 

An  overhead  roar  of  reply  to  the  signal  of  the  ap 
proaching  boat  drowned  all  words,  but  Ramsey  had 
learned  on  coming  aboard  that  the  grandfather  was 
still  sound  though  beyond  four  score,  and  her  one  vivid 
wish  now  was  to  know  more  not  of  him  but  of  Hugh 
and  her  father.  Yet  she  had  to  let  Hugh  hand  her  up 
the  pilot-house  stair,  and  without  him  rejoined  the 
Gilmores  while  Watson  spoke  down  to  the  man  in  the 
captain's  chair  as  to  the  light-draught  Antelope  having 
come  up  through  the  chute  of  Island  So-and-so.  She 
was  just  in  time  to  accept  her  share  in  the  splendor 
and  gayety  of  the  two  boats'  meeting  and  passing.  As 
the  picture  dissolved,  Mrs.  Gilmore  slyly  pinched 
Ramsey's  finger  while  asking  Watson: 

"Why  don't  our  men  sing?  7  want  some  more 
'Lindy!" 

Had  she  not  heard  the  signal  for  the  lead?  No,  in 
the  excitement  she  had  not,  though  both  Ramsey  and 

452 


"  CONCLUSIVELY" 

"California"  had,  there  being  to  them  an  unfailing 
poetry  in  the  casting  of  the  lead,  whether  by  day  or, 
as  now,  by  the  glare  of  a  torch  basket  let  down  close 
to  the  water  under  the  starboard  freight  guards.  At 
one  end  of  the  breast-board  the  two  ladies,  at  the  other 
the  actor  and  the  Calif ornian,  looked  out  and  down. 
The  boat's  builder  had  left  his  seat  and  stood  with 
Hugh  at  the  forward  rail.  From  the  freight  guards, 
far  below,  the  leadsman,  unseen  up  here  except  to  ex 
perienced  "poetic  vision,"  sent  up  a  long-drawn  chant 
telling  the  fathoms  of  depth  shown  on  the  sounding- 
line  that  flew  forward  from  his  skilled  hand  into  the 
boat's  moonlight  shadow,  plunged  to  the  river's  bed, 
vibrated  past  his  feet  in  the  glare  of  the  pine  torch, 
stretched  aft  while  he  chanted,  and  was  recovered  in 
dripping  coils  and  hove  again. 

"Mark  under  wa-ater,  twai-ai-ain." 

As  the  notes  resounded  Hugh  looked  up  to  the  pilots 
and  in  his  quietest  speaking  voice  repeated: 

"Mark  under  water,  twain." 

But  our  concern  here  is  mainly  with  those  for  whom 
the  scene,  the  calls,  veiled  two  private  conversations. 
Three  or  four  times  the  one  melodious  cry,  following 
as  many  casts,  rose  from  below,  and  each  time,  with  all 
its  swing  and  melody  left  out,  Hugh  passed  it  on  up 
to  the  pilots.  Between  the  strains  Gilmore  said  softly 
to  "California": 

"My  dear  fellow,  no.  Every  time  we  show  our 
selves  their  partisans  we  make  heavier  hauling  for 
them.  They'd  tell  us  so,  only  that — don't  you  see? — 

453 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

they  can't  even  do  that.  It  would  be  infra  dig." 
But  in  fact  Ramsey  was  just  then  telling  something 
much  like  that  to  his  wife. 

"Yes,"  admitted  the  Calif ornian,  full  of  a  new 
scheme,  yet  always  generous,  "and  that  was  a  ten- 
strike,  your  wife,  after  supper,  taking  Miss  Hayle 
away  from  Hugh  and  Gideon  in  such  gay  style.  Did 
you  see  how't  sort  o'  eased  the  old  man's  mind?" 

The  leadsman's  cry  changed  and  so  came  twice  or 
thrice,  Hugh  as  often  repeating  it  to  the  pilots,  while 
Ramsey  and  Mrs.  Gilmore,  though  hearkening,  whis 
pered  busily. 

"Shoaling,"  commented  Mrs.  Gilmore  to  Ramsey. 

"Not  seriously,"  said  the  river-wise  Ramsey.  "Go 
on.  What  did  you  get  out  of  him  at  last?"  She  had 
a  merry  sparkle. 

Once  more  the  far-below  cry  rose  to  them  and  was 
restated  by  Hugh  without  color  or  thrill.  Ramsey 
well  knew  that  so  it  was  always  sung  and  spoken,  yet 
she  remarked: 

"Hear  that  absurd  difference — in  those  two  voices." 

"That's  the  difference  between  him  and  other  men, 
Ramsey;  even  between  him  and  your  father." 

She  liked  that,  though  now  she  felt  bitter  toward 
him  for  not  being  more  like  ordinary  mortals. 

"Go  on,"  she  lightly  repeated.  "If  he  won't  make 
words  happen  with  me  I  must  take  him  second 
hand." 

"You  naughty  girl!  He'll  tell  you  all  you'll  let 
him." 

454 


"  CONCLUSIVELY" 

"Oh,  I'll  let  him,  all  he'll  tell  me.  What  did  he 
say?" 

"He  said  the  very  best  was,  that  under  all  your 
mantle  of  new  charms " 

Ramsey's  soft  laugh  interrupted.  "He  didn't.  He 
never  said  that,  my  lady.  He  wouldn't  know  how. 
You  said  it." 

"Well,  he  did  say  that  under  it  all  there's  nothing 
lost  of  the  Ramsey  we  began  with." 

"The  slanderer!"  They  laughed  together.  The 
calls  of  the  lead  were  passing  unnoticed.  "  Mark  above 
water,  twain;  mark,  twain;  quarter  less,  twain;  half, 
twain;  nine  and  a  half;  by  the  mark,  nine;  nine 
feet." 

"The  slanderer!  Why,  that's  actionable!  I'll  have 
the  law  on  him!"  The  speaker's  mirth  was  overdone. 
As  the  leadsman  sang  another  cry  and  Hugh  sedately 
spoke  it  she  tinkled  as  of  old  and  said:  "Don't  get 
excited,  captain.  Keep  cool." 

Mrs.  Gilmore  sobered.  "You  may  laugh,  but  I 
believe  he's  talked  with  your  father  conclusively  and 
will  to  you  to-night,  if  you'll  allow  it." 

"Humph!  you  don't  know  that  he'll  come  near  me. 
Aboard  his  own  boat,  on  her  trial  trip,  he's  got  other 
fish  to  fry.  But  even  if  he  should,  don't  you  see  how 
absolute  the  deadlock  is?  Oh,  you  must  have  seen  it 
these  eight  years  and  more! — in  spite  of  everybody's 
silence." 

"  We  didn't.  We  don't  see  it  even  now,  Gilmore  and 
I.  We  don't  believe  Captain  Hugh  sees  any  deadlock 

455 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

whatever.  He  merely  knows  you  think  you  do.  You 
think  to  accept  him  would  condemn  him  to  death?" 

"Mrs.  Gilmore,  I  know  it  would.  My  brothers — 
may  have  broken  promises  but  they — keep — their — 
threats.  You  know  that's  the  fashion  of  all  this  coun 
try,  from  Cairo  down." 

"Ma-a-ark,  twai-ai-ain,"  chanted  the  leadsman  for 
his  final  call,  and  not  only  Hugh  but  an  echo  from  the 
land  repeated  it.  To  many  an  ear,  poetic  ear,  that 
echo  is  there  yet,  in  all  that  country,  from  Cairo  down. 
But  that  is  aside.  Watson  and  his  partner  threw  the 
wheel  over  and  the  Enchantress  swept  round  for  the 
chute. 

In  the  bright  moonlight  Hugh  and  the  boat's  builder 
turned  back  toward  the  solitary  chair,  placidly  con 
versing.  Gilmore  talked  on  with  "California."  His 
wife  and  Ramsey  drew  back  into  the  corner  behind 
them. 

"Your  brothers,"  murmured  Mrs.  Gilmore,  "threat 
ened  Hugh's  life  just  the  same  before  you  came  into 
the  issue  at  all." 

"Yes,"  said  Ramsey,  "and  they're  watching  their 
chance  yet.  Julian  told  me  so  this  summer  and  Lucian 
berated  him  for  'showing  his  hand/  Oh,  that  isn't 
the  deadlock,  by  itself.  The  deadlock  is  that  as  long 
as  Hugh  Courteney  holds  off  the  feud  will  keep,  but 
when  he  doesn't  I  come  in  and  it  won't;  everything's 
precipitated.  And  so,  you  see?  .  .  . 

"Hmm!  Hugh  Courteney  won't  put  himself,  or 
me,  or  mom-a,  where,  in  a  fight  for  his  life,  no  matter 

456 


"CONCLUSIVELY" 

who's  killed  the  killing  would  be  in  the  family,  and  the 
killed  would  be  ours,  mom-a's — and — and  mine.  The 
twins  see  that.  Jule  says  it,  and,  what's  worse,  Luce 
says  nothing.  That's  why  they  are  entirely  satisfied 
with  the  deadlock.  .  .  .  Look." 

The  boat's  contractor  was  leaving  the  deck.  Hugh 
had  started  toward  the  pilot-house.  But  when  Mrs. 
Gilmore  looked  she  looked  beyond  him  in  meditation. 

"I  know  what  you're  thinking,"  said  Ramsey. 
"But  it'll  never  happen.  They've  settled  down  to  the 
ordinary  term  of  a  decent  life,  thank  God!  .  .  .  Here 
becomes.  Think  he'll  talk  to  me?  Yes,  he  will.  He'll 
begin  where  he  left  off."  She  laughed.  "He's  going 
to  tell  me  the  name  of  his  next  boat,  if  he  ever  builds 
another.  Anything  ' conclusive'  in  that?" 

Mrs.  Gilmore  was  grave  a  moment  longer  and  then 
brightly  said:  "There  might  be!  There  may  be!  I 
can  see — I  can  see  how  he — "  She  could  not  finish. 
Hugh  had  entered. 

His  coming  broke  in  upon  another  conversation, 
that  of  Gilmore  and  "California." 

"Old  boy,  no.  Suppose  it  should  work  out  as  you 
plan.  You  leave  us  at  Natchez;  that's  easy.  You  live 
there  a  week,  a  month,  free  with  your  gold  and  mak 
ing  friends — of  the  sort  gold  makes.  You  get  into  a 
political  quarrel  with  the  twins — nothing  easier — and 
in  a  clear  case  of  your  own  self-defence  the  two  are:— 

"  ' — Laid  in  one  grave. 
Sing  tooralye,'  etc." 

457 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Wouldn't  that  be  poetic  justice?  and  ain't  I  a 
poet?" 

"  Undoubtedly.  Then  by  miracle  you  come  off  scot- 
free." 

"Not  essential.    I  take  my  chances." 

"Still,  you  have  that  hope;  freedom  is  sweet.  More 
over,  miracle  of  miracles,  what  you  did  it  for  is  never 
guessed.  But,  my  dear  fellow,  there  are  two  who'd 
never  need  to  guess.  Like  us  they'd  know  and  that 
knowledge  would  sunder  them  forever.  They'd  never 
willingly  look  into  each  other's  faces  again." 

"Nnn-o.  No,  course  they  wouldn't.  I  seen  that 
from  the  jump  but  I  sort  o'  hoped  you'd  maybe  know 
some  way  to  get  round  that;  it  being  the  only  real 
difficulty." 

"Sorry,  but  I  don't.  Odd  how  narrow-minded  one's 
friends  can  be,  but  when  they  are — what  can  we 
do?" 

"Yes,  that's  so.  ...  Mr.  Gilmore,  you're  not  nar 
row-minded;  I've  got  a  poem " 

It  was  there  Hugh  entered.  But  it  was  there,  too, 
that  Watson  made  a  move  in  his  modest  part  of  the 
game. 

With  his  eyes  out  ahead  down  the  chute  they  were 
entering — "If  any  one,"  he  drawled,  "wants  to  see 
a  scandalous  fine  moonlight  picture  of  this  river,  one 
they'll  never  forget,  the  best  place  from  whence  to 
behold  it  is  the  texas  roof,  down  here,  out  for'ard  o' 
the  chimneys." 

"If  Captain  Hugh  would  go  with  us,"  pensively 
458 


"CONCLUSIVELY" 

said  Mrs.  Gilmore,  "we'd  all  go."  And  soon  the 
pilots  were  alone. 

"Now,"  growled  the  younger,  with  his  gaze  down 
there  on  Ramsey,  "don't  that  beat  you?  Her  making 
California  stay  so's  Cap'n  Hugh  can't  pair  off  with 
her!" 

"Be  easy,"  said  Watson;  "that's  according  to  Hoyle. 
Don't  shoot  till  they  settle.  .  .  .  There.  Now  I'll 
go  down  and  take  care  of  California.  By  cracky! 
run  smooth  or  run  rough,  I  believe  it's  going  to  go  this 
time." 


459 


LX 
ONCE  MORE  HUGH  SINGS 

BETWEEN  that  great  eastward  bend  nearly  opposite 
the  mouth  of  the  Arkansas,  which  in  later  years  was 
cut  off  and  is  now,  or  was  yesterday,  Beulah  Lake — 
between  it  and  Ozark  Island  below — a  white-jacket 
came  up  from  the  passenger  deck  far  enough  to  show 
his  head  to  the  watchman  above  and  warily  asked  a 
question. 

"Six,"  was  the  reply.    "Including  me — seven." 

The  inquirer  ran  wildly  down  again,  but  the  En 
chantress  sped  on  through  the  glorious  moonlight  as 
though  he  scarcely  mattered.  On  the  texas  roof  Mrs. 
Gilmore  sat  with  "California,"  her  husband  with 
Watson,  Hugh  with  Ramsey.  But  only  the  last  two 
were  out  on  its  forward  verge.  Mrs.  Gilmore  had 
found  it  cool  there  and  with  the  others  had  drawn 
back  a  few  steps,  into  the  pleasant  warmth  of  the 
chimneys.  For  average  passengers  the  evening  was 
far  gone,  but  not  for  players,  pilots,  Californians,  or 
lovers — of  the  river. 

A  mile  or  so  farther  on,  the  white- jacket  reappeared 
and,  gliding  by  all  others  to  reach  his  captain,  said, 
with  mincing  feet  and  a  semicircular  bow,  while  pre 
senting  a  tray  of  six,  not  seven,  sherry  cobblers: 

460 


ONCE  MORE  HUGH  SINGS 

"Sev'l  gen'lemen's  comp'ments,  an'  ax,  will  Mis' 
Gil' " 

"What  gentlemen?    Who?" 

"Sev'l  gen'lemen,  yassuh.  Dey  tell  me  dess  say, 
sev'l  gen'lemen.  Sev'l  gen'lemen  ax  will  Mis'  Gilmo' 
have  de  kin'ness  fo'  to  sing  some  o'  dem  same  songs 
she  sing  night  afo'  las'  in  de  ladies'  cabin  an'  las' 
night  up  hyuh.  .  .  .  Yass'm,  whiles  dey  listens  f'om 
de  b'ileh  deck." 

"Has  my  father  gone  to  bed?"  asked  Ramsey. 

"  No'm,  he  up  yit.  He  done  met  up  wid  dese  sev'l 
gen'lemen  an'  find  dey  old  frien's — callin'  deyse'v's 
in  joke  Gideon'  Ban' — an'  he  talkin'  steamboats  wid 
'em " 

The  speaker  tittered  as  Ramsey  inquiringly  extended 
her  arms  out  forward  and  crossed  her  wrists.  "  Yass'm," 
he  said,  "hin'  feet  on  de  front  rail,  yass'm." 

It  seemed  but  fair  that  Mrs.  Gilmore,  to  meet  the 
compliment  generously,  should  sing  at  the  very  front 
of  the  hurricane  roof,  just  over  the  forward  guards 
of  the  boiler  deck.  But  Ramsey  and  Hugh  kept  their 
place.  Ramsey  wanted  to  be  near  the  sky,  she  ex 
plained,  when  songs  were  sung  on  the  water  by  moon 
light,  and  eagerly  spoke  for  two  or  three  which  her 
friend  had  sung  of  old  on  the  Votaress  to  spiritualize 
the  "acrobatics"  of  the  Brothers  Ambrosia. 

The  singer's  voice  was  rich,  trained,  and  mature, 
and  her  repertory  a  survival  of  young  days — nights — 
before  curtains  and  between  acts:  Burns,  Moore, 
Byron,  and  Mrs.  Norton,  alternating  with  "The 

461 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Lavender  Girl,"  "Rose  of  Lucerne/'  "Dandy  Jim  o' 
Caroline,"  and  "O  Poor  Lucy  Neal."  And  now  she 
sang  her  best,  in  the  belief  that  while  she  sang  the  pair 
up  between  her  and  the  pilot-house  were  speaking 
conclusively.  Let  us  see. 

"Ramsey,"  said  Hugh,  and  waited — ten  seconds — 
twenty. 

Well,  why  should  he  not?  In  eight  years  and  a 
half  there  were  ten  million  times  twenty  seconds  and 
she  had  waited  all  of  them.  At  length  she  responded 
and  the  moment  she  did  so  she  thought  she  had 
spoken  too  promptly  although  all  she  said  was, 
"Yes?" 

"The  hour's  come  at  last,"  said  Hugh. 

"What  hour?— hour  to  name  that  boat?" 

"Yes,  to  name  that  boat.  Only  not  that  first. 
Ramsey,  I've  told  your  father  all  I  ever  wanted  to 
tell  you." 

"Humph!"  The  response  was  so  nearly  in  the 
manner  of  the  earlier  Ramsey,  "the  Ramsey  he  had 
begun  with"  and  whom  she  remembered  with  horror, 
that  she  recognized  the  likeness.  The  further  reply 
had  been  on  her  tongue's  end,  that  to  tell  her  father 
only  that  could  not  have  taken  long,  or  some  such 
parrying  nonsense;  but  now  it  would  not  come.  She 
felt  her  whole  nature  tempted  to  make  love's  final  ap 
proach  steep  and  slippery,  but  again  without  looking 
she  saw  his  face;  his  face  of  stone;  his  iron  face  with 
its  large,  quiet,  formidable  eyes  that  could  burn  with 
enterprise  in  great  moments;  a  face  set  to  all  the 

462 


ONCE  MORE  HUGH  SINGS 

world's  realities,  and  eyes  that  offered  them  odds,  ask 
ing  none.  So  seeing  she  knew  that  if  she  answered 
with  one  least  note  of  banter  she  would  make  herself 
an  object  of  his  magnanimity,  than  which  she  would 
almost  rather  fall  under  his  scorn — if  he  ever  stooped 
to  scorn.  Suddenly  she  remembered  the  deadlock  and 
was  smitten  with  the  conviction  that  these  exchanges 
were  love's  last  farewell.  Now  it  was  hard  to  speak 
at  all. 

"What  was  it  you  told  him?" 

"I  told  him  how  long  I'd  loved  you,  and  why." 

"We  both  love  the  river  so,"  murmured  Ramsey  in 
a  voice  broken  by  the  pounding  of  her  heart. 

"Yes.  I  told  him  that,  for  one  thing.  And  I  told 
him  how  gladly  I  would  have  asked  for  you  long  ago 
had  I  not  seen  myself,  as  you  so  often  saw  me  on  the 
Votaress " 

"Condemned  to  inaction,"  she  softly  prompted;  for 
if  this  was  farewell  a  true  maiden  must  speed  the 
parting. 

"Yes." 

"By  an  absolute  deadlock,"  she  murmured  on. 
"My  father  sees  it.  He  knows  it's  one  yet  and  must 
always  be  one." 

"No,  a  lock  but  not  a  deadlock.  It's  a  lock  to 
which  your  brothers  do  not  hold  the  key." 

The  pounding  in  her  breast,  which  had  grown  bet 
ter,  grew  worse  again.  "Who  holds  it?" 

"  Your  father.  I  have  just  told  him  so.  At  no  time 
would  I  have  hesitated  to  ask  for  you  if  the  key  had 

463 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

been  with  your  brothers.  I  would  have  got  a  settle 
ment  from  them,  sink  or  swim,  alive  or  dead.  I  believe 
in  lover's  rights,  Ramsey,  and  I'll  have  a  lover's  rights 
at  any  risk  or  cost  that  falls  only  on  me.  Those  old 
threats — yes,  I  know  how  fiercely  they  are  still  meant 
— and  they  have  always  had  their  weight;  but  they've 
never  of  themselves  weighed  enough  to  stop  me.  I've 
held  off  and  endured,  waiting  not  for  a  change  of  heart 
in  your  brothers,  but  for  an  hour  counselled,  Ramsey, 
by  my  father  on  his  dying  bed." 

"What  hour?  Hour  of  strongest  right?  strongest 
reason?" 

"Not  at  all.  The  hour  I've  waited  for  was  the  one 
which  would  best  enable  me  to  meet  your  father  on 
equal  terms  as  measured  by  his  own  standards." 

"Oh,  I  see.    I  believe  I  see." 

"  Yes,  the  hour  when  I  should  be  not  owner  merely, 
but  captain  too,  of  the  finest  boat — 

"Dat  eveh  float' — "  she  tenderly  put  in. 

"Yes,  on  this  great  river." 

"Oh,  Captain  Courteney " 

"Don't  Courteney  or  captain  me  now,  Ramsey, 
whether  this  is  beginning  or  end."  There  was  a  si 
lence,  and  then — 

"Hugh,"  she  said,  as  softly  as  a  female  bird  trying 
her  mate's  song,  "you  mustn't  ask  my  father.  You 
mustn't  ask  any  one.  I  can't  let  you." 

"Your  father's  already  asked.  If  he  consents  I  go 
ashore  at  Natchez,  having  telegraphed  ahead  from 

Vicksburg ' ' 

464 


< 


ONCE  MORE  HUGH  SINGS 

"You  shan't.  You  shan't  go  to  my  brothers.  You 
shan't  go  armed  and  you  shan't  go  unarmed." 

"Yes,  I  shall.  I'll  go  and  settle  with  them  in  an 
hour  without  the  least  fear  of  violence  on  either 
side." 

"Armed  with  nothing  but  words?  You  shan't.  And 
armed  with  anything  else  you  shan't." 

"  Ramsey,  words  are  the  mightiest  weapon  on  earth. 
The  world's  one  perfect  man — we  needn't  be  pious 
to  say  it — set  about  to  conquer  the  human  race  by 
the  sheer  power  of  words  and  died  rather  than  use 
any  other  weapon.  Died  victorious,  as  he  counted 
victory.  And  the  result — a  poor,  lame  beginning  of 
the  result — is  what  we  call  Christendom." 

"You  shan't  die  victorious  for  me." 

"No,  I  shall  not.    I  talk  much  too  vast." 

"Humph!  you  always  did."  She  smiled,  but  a 
moonbeam  betrayed  a  tear  on  her  folded  hands. 

"True,"  he  admitted.  "I  talk  too  vast.  I'm  only 
claiming  the  power  of  words  in  small  as  well  as  large. 
I've  no  hope  of  martyrdom;  I'm  only  confident  of 
victory." 

"No  matter.    You  won't  go  ashore  at  Natchez." 

"You  mean  your  father  won't  consent?" 

"  I  do.  There's  one  thing,  at  the  very  bottom  of  his 
heart,  that  you've  never  thought  of." 

"I  think  I  have." 

"What  is  it?" 

"That  as  the  Hayle  boats  are  all  one  day  to  be 
yours,  and  our  union  would  unite  the  two  fleets 

465 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

under  the  one  name  of  Courteney,  he  will  never  al 
low  it." 

"He  never  will." 

"Ramsey,  he  says  he  may.  If  we  and  the  boats 
are  so  united  the  fleet  will  be,  while  grandfather  lives, 
the  Courteney  fleet;  but  each  new  boat  from  now  on 
will  be  named  for  a  Hayle,  beginning  with  you,  or  your 
father,  or  your  mother,  as  you  and  they  may  choose. 
At  Vicksburg,  if  he  consents  in  time,  we  can  tele 
graph  her — we  must  have  her — to  come  aboard  at 
Natchez  for  the  rest  of  the  trip.  Grandfather,  I  sup 
pose  youVe  been  told,  is  now  waiting  for  us  at  Vicks 
burg.  He  came  up  on  the  Antelope." 

"The  Antelope!    How  do  you  know?" 

"By  a  despatch  received  at  Memphis." 

"Mmm!  what  a  blessing  is  the  telegraph!  But,  ah, 
Hugh" — the  name  was  almost  naturalized — "this  is 
a  mere  castle  in  the  air!  My — my  brothers " 

"I'll  take  care  of  them." 

"You  can't!  You  can't!  Oh,  Hugh,  they— keep— 
their — threats."  She  caught  a  breath  and  looked  at 
him.  If  he  went  seeking  them  she  would  go  at  his 
side!  He  must  have  read  her  mind,  for  in  his  ma- 
jestical  way  he  smilingly  shook  his  head. 

Mrs.  Gilmore  had  ceased  to  sing  and  with  the  oth 
ers  had  risen  and  turned  Ramsey's  way,  confident 
that  up  there  the  conclusive  word  had  been  spoken. 
Ramsey  called  down: 

"Don't  stop.  Sing  'My  Old  Kentucky  Home'  or 
that  thing  in  which  'the  river  keeps  rolling  along'  and 

466 


ONCE  MORE  HUGH  SINGS 

'the  future's  but  a  dream/     We're  song  hungry  up 
here." 

"Then  sing  to  each  other,"  was  the  reply.  "You 
can  do  it." 

"Let  Captain  Hugh  sing,"  said  Watson.  "He's 
off  watch." 

"He  says,"  said  Ramsey,  "captains  don't  sing  on 
the  texas  roof."  She  moved  to  join  the  group  on  its 
way  to  an  after  stair.  Watson  bent  his  steps  for  the 
pilot-house.  At  the  stair  the  actor's  wife  let  her  hus 
band  and  "California"  go  down  before  her  and  as 
Ramsey  and  Hugh  came  close  said  covertly: 

"Sing,  captain.  Sing  as  softly  as  you  please,  just 
for  us  two  while  the  world  is  in  dreams  and  sleep, 
won't  you?" 

The  lover's  heart  was  big  with  happiness,  his  solic 
itor  had  just  been  singing  pointedly  in  his  interest, 
the  seclusion  here  was  all  but  absolute,  the  quoted 
line  was  from  Ramsey's  song  of  that  first  night  on  the 
Votaress,  and  to  the  bright  surprise  of  both  his  hearers 
he  laid  a  touch  on  Mrs.  Gilmore's  arm  and  in  a  re 
strained  voice  so  confidential  as  to  reach  only  to  the 
pilot-house  above  and  to  the  two  men  at  the  stair's 
foot  below  began  to  sing. 

Before  half  a  line  was  out  the  Californian  had  seized 
both  of  Gilmore's  shoulders.  "My  poem!"  he  gasped. 
"I  gave  it  to  him  last  night  to  grammatize!  He's  fit 
it  to  a  tchune.  Partner,  he's  the  only  man  that's  lis 
tened— 

"Sh-sh-sh!  listen  yourself,"  whispered  the  actor, 
and  this  is  what  they  heard: 

467 


&JL 


5^2 


GIDEON'S  BAND 


O   come  and    grace  my    gar    -    den,      From      all     the  world    a  - 


part.      Thou   on  -  ly  may'st  the  won-der  see    Of    birds  and  flow'  rs  that 


)fl  ft 


in        it       be,     For      all       of    them    are    dreams    of        thee.   My 


gar  -  den    is     my     heart,  .........  My    gar  -  den     is    my  heart. 


"  If  heaven  might  make  my  garden 

An  empire  wide  and  great, 
Fidelity  should  close  it  in, 
The  joy  of  life  bloom  evergreen, 
And  love  be  law  and  thou  be  queen, 

Might  I  but  keep  the  gate. 

"For  where  would  be  my  garden, 

Dear  love,  from  thee  apart? 
Whose  every  bush  and  bower  and  tree, 
Its  founts,  perfumes,  and  minstrelsy 
And  all  its  flowers  spring  all  from  thee, 

Thou  sunlight  of  my  heart." 

"You  say  that's  your  poem?"  murmured  the  actor. 
"Oh,  he's  doctored  it,"  stealthily  admitted  the  Cal- 
ifornian.    "He's  doctored  it  a  lot." 


468 


LXI 
WANTED,  HAYLE'S  TWINS 

EARLY  in  the  next  forenoon  another  of  the  Cali- 
fornian's  benevolent  schemes  threatened  to  miscarry. 

At  the  settlement  of  Milliken's  Bend  there  were 
people  already  at  the  landing,  and  people  running  to 
it  from  three  directions.  Yet  not  a  hat,  hand,  or 
handkerchief  did  they  wave  until  the  Enchantress,  in 
full  view  up  toward  the  head  of  the  bend,  was  too 
near  to  mistake  their  salutes  for  a  sign  to  stop.  Then 
there  were  wavings  aplenty  and  cries  of  acclaim. 
By  the  "River  News"  daily  telegraphed  down  to  the 
New  Orleans,  Vicksburg,  and  other  papers,  from  Louis 
ville,  Paducah,  Cairo,  and  like  points,  and  brought  up 
in  those  papers  by  such  boats  as  the  Antelope,  it  had 
been  known  here  and  at  every  important  landing  be 
low  that  this  latest  bride  of  the  river  was  coming  and 
the  time  of  her  appearance  had  been  definitely  calcu 
lated.  And  now  behold  her,  a  vision  of  delight,  a 
winged  victory,  the  finest  apparition  yet.  Up  in  front 
of  her  bell  could  be  seen  Captain  Hugh,  and  who  was 
that  beside  him,  twice  his  bulk,  but  Gideon  Hayle! 

"Well,  well,  what's  going  to  happen  next?" 

No  one  offered  an  answer,  though  the  question  ech 
oed  round. 

469 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

So  early  in  the  season  the  new  wonder  carried  no 
cotton,  but  her  lower  deck  showed  "right  smart  o' 
freight/'  and  wherever  passengers  were  wont  to  stand 
stood  a  crowd  looking  so  content  that  on  the  shore 
one  lean  and  hungry  native  with  his  hands  in  his 
trousers  to  the  elbows  drawled  sourly  as  his  eye  sin 
gled  out  the  boiler-deck  throng: 

"Kin  see  thah  breakfast  inside  'em  fom  hyuh." 

Now  they  read  her  name  in  gold  on  the  front  of 
her  pilot-house,  now  on  its  side  and  splendidly  mag 
nified  on  her  wheel-house,  and  lastly  again  on  the 
pilot-house,  at  its  back,  as  she  dwindled  away  east 
ward  for  Island  One-hundred-and-three,  called  by 
Ramsey  and  Watson  "My  Wife's,"  and  now  known 
as  Pawpaw  Island. 

"California"  was  a  general  disappointed  of  his  re 
inforcements.  The  pair  at  Milliken's  Bend  having 
failed  him,  what  better  hope  was  there  of  the  Car 
thaginians  or  even  of  the  Vicksburg  couple?  Yet  at 
Vicksburg,  two  hours  later,  he  had  joy.  For  down  at 
the  wharf-boat's  very  edge,  liveliest  of  all  wavers  and 
applauders,  with  a  "Howdy,  Cap'm  Hugh?"  before 
the  lines  were  out,  and  a  "How  you  do,  Miss  Ram 
sey?"  were  the  three  pairs  at  once,  foregathered  here, 
they  said,  "to  make  the  spree  mo'  spree-cious,"  and 
wild  to  be  the  first  on  the  "sta-age  plank."  Close 
after  them  came  Commodore  Courteney,  and  Vicks 
burg  faded  into  the  north. 

"Why,  Mis'  Gilmo'!"  said  the  three  pretty  wives, 
sinking  with  a  deft  sweep  of  their  flounced  crinoline 

470 


WANTED,  HAYLE'S  TWINS 

upon  the  blue-damask  sofas  and  faintly  teetering  on 
their  perfect  springs,  "why,  my  deah  la-ady,  yo'  eight 
an'  a  hafe  yeahs  youngeh! —  Ain't  she? —  She  cer- 
tain'y  is!  An'  that  deah  Commodo'  Co'teney!  He's 
as  sweet  as  eveh! 

"But  you,  Miss  Ramsey,  oh, — well, — why, — you 
know, — time  an'  again  we  heard  what  a  mahvel  you'd 
grown  to  be,  but — why, — lemme  look  at  you  again! 
Why,  yo'  just  divi-i-ine!  Law'!  I'd  give  a  thousand 
dollahs  just  fo'  yo'  red-gole  hair.  Why,  it's  the  golden 
locks  o'  Veronese,  that  Cap'm  Hugh's  fatheh  showed 
you, — don't  you  remembeh? — on  the  Vot'ress,  an'  you 
showed  us, — in  the  sky.  They  there  yet! 

"An' " — the  five  heads  drew  close  together — 
"Cap'm  Hugh,  oh,  he  ain't  such  a  su'pri-ise;  we've 
seen  him  f'om  time  to  time.  But  ain't  he — mmm, 
hmm,  hmmm !  An'  so  a-a-able !  Why,  Miss  Ramsey, — 
oh,  you  must  'a'  heard  it, — they  say  excep'  fo'  yo'  pa 
he  hasn't  got  his  equal  on  the  riveh  an'  could  'a'  been 
a  captain  long  ago  had  he  'a'  thought  best  himself. 
He  certain'y  could.  But  ain't  this  boat  the  splen- 
didest  thing  in  the  wi-i-ide,  wi-i-ide  world?  It  certain'y 
is!  It's  a  miracle!  an'  he  her  captain  and  deservin' 
to  be! 

"Mis'  Gilmo', — Miss  Ramsey," — the  lovely  heads 
came  together, — "the's  a  hund'ed  pretty  girls — an* 
rich  as  pretty — that  ah  just  cra-a-azy  about  him.  But 
they  might  as  well  be  crazy  about  a  stah.  They  cer 
tain'y  might,  an'  they — know — why!"  (Laughter.) 
"They  certain'y  do —  Law'!  ain't  Miss  Ramsey  got 

471 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

the  sa-a-ame  o-o-ole  la-a-afe,  on'y  sweeteh'n  eveh? 
Sweeteh  an'  mo'  ketchin'!  You  certain'y  have.  No 
wondeh  yo'  call'  the  Belle  o'  the  Bends.  But,  all  the 
same,  yo'  cruel.  Yo'  fame'  fo'  yo'  cruelty ! "  (Laughter.) 
"They  say  he's  just  telegrayphed  yo'  ma  to  come 
aboa'd  at  Natchez.  That's  just  ow  Southe'n  hospi 
tality.  But  won't  that  be  fi-i-ine?  It  certain'y 
will!" 

The  three  husbands  came  bringing  the  actor,  the 
junior  pilot,  the  Californian,  and  his  confidant  of  the 
evening  before.  Incited  by  Ramsey  the  wives  fell  into 
queries  on  the  coming  election,  rejoicing  that  even 
should  Lincoln  be  made  President,  and  that  incredible 
thing,  a  war,  come  on,  the  great  river  and  its  cities — 
New  Orleans,  Natchez,  Memphis,  and  especially 
Vicksburg — would  be  far  from  the  storm.  While  they 
made  merry  Mrs.  Gilmore  got  Ramsey  aside. 

"If  Captain  Hugh's  telegraphed,  why,  then,  your 
father- 

"Oh!  my  father,  he's  roaming  over  the  boat  some 
where  with  Commodore  Courteney!  I'm  going  to 
change  this  hot  dress  for  a  cooler  one.  I'll  be  back 
before  a  great  while." 

"Let  me  go  with  you.    Are  you  not  well?" 

Not  well!  The  girl  laughed  gayly.  But  as  she 
drew  her  friend  out  upon  the  guards  and  to  her  state 
room's  rear  door  she  talked  with  a  soft  earnestness 
all  the  way. 

"  I  don't  see  how  I  could  have  been  so  blind !  If  he 
saw  those  things  why  couldn't  I  see  them?  I  thought 

472 


WANTED,  HAYLE'S  TWINS 

of  them,  over  and  over;  but  always  the  other  things 
crowded  them  back  into  the  dark — and  there  was 
plenty  of  dark.  He's  right,  my  father  does  hold  the 
key,  and  if  I'd  seen  things  as  I  see  them  now  I'd  have 
made  the  twins  give  in,  somehow,  long  ago.  If  you 
should  see  mammy  Joy,  or  Phyllis,  or  both,  please 
send  them  to  me." 

She  shut  herself  in,  dropped  to  the  berth's  side,  and 
let  the  tears  run  wild.  The  nurse  and  the  still  hand 
some  Phyllis  appeared  promptly,  together.  But  they 
found  her  full  of  sparkle;  so  full  that  Phyllis  saw  under 
the  mask;  a  mask  she  herself  had  worn  so  often  in 
her  youth  under  a  like  desperation. 

"Mammy,"  said  her  mistress,  "want  to  go  some 
where  with  your  baby,  about  sundown  this  eve 
ning?" 

For  explanation  the  old  woman  glanced  at  Phyllis, 
but  Phyllis's  eyes  were  on  Ramsey  with  a  light  whose 
burning  carried  old  Joy's  memory  back  twenty 
years.  "Sundown?"  echoed  the  nurse  to  gain  time, 
"yass'm,  o'  co'se,  ef — but,  missie — sundown — dat 
mean'  Natchez.  You  cayn't  be  goin'  asho'  whah 
Cap'm  Hugh  dess  tell  Phyllis  yo'  ma  comin'  aboa'd?" 

"Not  ashore  to  stay,"  was  the  blithe  reply  as 
Phyllis  aided  the  change  of  dress.  "There'll  be  two 
or  three  of  us." 

"Well,  o'  co'se,  ef  you  needs  me.  Wha'  fo'  you 
gwine?" 

"To  see  the  twins,"  sang  Ramsey,  "if  we  go  at 
all." 

473 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Then  Phyllis  knew  she  was  trusted,  and  while  with 
a  puzzled  frown  the  nurse  watched  her  manipulate 
hooks  and  eyes  she  blandly  asked:  "Miss  Ramsey,  if 
Cap'm  Hugh  give'  me  leave  kin  I  go  too?" 

"Yes,  you  might  ask  him.  Nobody's  going  unless 
he  goes." 

The  light  came  to  old  Joy.  "  Law' !  missie,  now  you 
a-talkin'!  Now  you  a-talkin'  wisdom!  Dah's  whah 
I's  wid  you,  my  baby.  I's  wid  you  right  dah,  pra-a-aise 
Gawd!" 

All  three,  parting  company,  were  happier  for  sev 
eral  hours.  But  the  Californian's  were  not  the  only 
fond  schemes,  aboard  the  Enchantress,  that  could  go 
to  wreck. 

Nor  had  "California"  met  his  last  disappointment 
even  on  this  journey.  As  he  and  his  reinforcements 
came  out  on  the  boiler  deck  with  a  hundred  others 
from  the  midday  feast  the  deck-hands  below,  for 
quicker  unloading  at  Canal  Street  on  the  morrow, 
were  shifting  a  lot  of  sacked  corn  from  the  hold  to  the 
forecastle-deck  and  were  timing  their  work  to  a 
chantey.  The  song  was  innocently  chosen  in  reference 
solely  to  the  piece  of  river  in  which  they  chanced 
then  to  be,  but  all  the  more  for  its  innocence  it 
touched  in  that  gentle  knight  a  chord  of  sym 
pathy. 

"My  own  true  love  wuz  lost  an'  found — 

O  hahd  times! — 
An'  lost  ag'in  a-comin'  round 
Hahd  Times  Ben'. 

474 


WANTED,  HAYLE'S  TWINS 

Found  an'  lost,  lost  an'  found, 

An'  lost  ag'in  a-comin'  round 

Hahd  Times  Ben'."* 

So  it  ran,  while  the  Enchantress  turned  southeast 
with  that  Lake  Saint  Joe  of  which  "  'Lindy"  was  "the 
pride"  lying  forest-hidden  a  few  miles  away  on  the 
starboard  beam.  The  melody  opened  with  a  prolonged 
wail  on  its  highest  note  and  bore  the  tragic  quality 
which  so  often  marked  the  songs  of  slavery.  Helped 
on  by  names  of  near-by  landmarks — the  Big  Black 
River  and  the  once  perilous  Grand  Gulf — at  the  bot 
tom  of  Hard  Times  Bend — it  played  on  "California's" 
mind  like  summer  lightning  and  seemed  to  call  to  his 
romantic  spirit  supernaturally.  He  could  delay  no 
longer  to  take  his  companions  into  his  confidence. 

By  guess,  he  said,  by  inferences,  and  by  modest  in 
quiries  he  had  discerned  that  Hugh  was  going  ashore 


475 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

i 

at  Natchez  to — they  understood.  All  right,  he  would 
go,  too,  and  ordinarily  he  would  be  enough.  But  the 
present  need  was  not  a  fair  fight  but  peace.  Hence 
the  propriety  of  overwhelming  numbers.  Wouldn't 
they  like  to  take  a  hand? 

"But  he'll  see  the  twins  privately,"  said  the  in 
vited. 

"Of  course,  but  'though  lost  to  sight'  they'll  know 
we're  too  close  for  them  to  get  away  from,  and  that's 
a  very  convincing  situation  to  'most  any  man,  even 
twins." 

"Yes,  but  we  can't  turn  a  feud  into  a  fox-hunt. 
You  don't  know  these  things  as  we  do." 

"Don't?  Why,  my  friends,  I'm  a  Kentucky  high- 
lander.  Might  as  well  say  I  don't  know  the  smell  of 
whiskey  because  I  keep  sober,  when,  in  my  day,  I've 
been  so  drunk  I've  laid  on  my  back  and  felt  up'ards 
for  the  ground." 

However,  he  yielded  sweetly.  But  it  was  plain  to 
see  that  he  would  certainly,  contentedly,  go  with 
Hugh  alone.  Indeed,  only  this  would  he  have  pre 
ferred — that  Gideon  Hayle  might  go  instead.  But 
one  square  look  at  the  big,  grim,  baffled  commander 
had  told  him  earlier  that  Hugh's  perilous  isolation 
was  wholly  acceptable  as  a  final  test  of  his  fitness  to 
belong  to  Gideon's  Band.  He  parted  with  his  com 
panions  and  stood  at  the  front  rail  taking  comfort  in 
the  thought  that  whoever  might  disappoint  him  the 
twins  would  not  and  looking  down  on  the  toiling 
singers  in  placid  defiance  of  their  lines: 

476 


WANTED,  HAYLE'S  TWINS 

"My  true  love's  heart  to  mine  'uz  boun' — 

O  hahd  times!— 
Dey  broke  dem  bindin's  comin'  roun' 

Hahd  Times  Ben'. 
Boun'  an'  broke,  broke  an'  boun', 
An'  broke  ag'in  a-comin'  roun' 

Hahd  Times  Ben'." 

Watson's  partner  touched  the  listener's  arm,  who 
smiled  and  said: 

"Only  four  hours  more." 

"That's  all,"  replied  the  pilot.  "But  I've  just 
thought  of  something.  Suppose  the  twins  shouldn't 
be  in  Natchez." 


477 


LXII 
EUTHANASIA 

A  FEW  steps  aside  from  Hugh  and  his  grandfather 
at  the  forward  rail  of  the  hurricane  roof,  in  a  glow  of 
autumn  twilight,  the  Gilmores  and  the  three  couples 
taken  on  at  Vicksburg  observed  the  Enchantress,  un 
der  Watson's  skill,  lay  her  lower  guards  against  the 
guards  of  the  Natchez  wharf-boat  with  a  touch  as 
light  as  a  human  hand. 

Down  on  the  wharf-boat,  in  its  double  door,  as 
beautiful  in  her  fuller  years  as  in  Votaress  days,  and 
more  radiant,  stood  Madame  Hayle.  A  man-servant 
at  one  elbow,  a  maid  at  the  other,  saw  the  group  on 
the  roof  fondly  bidding  for  her  smiles,  but  except  one 
sent  earlier  to  the  two  Courteneys  they  were  all  for 
her  husband  and  daughter,  who,  unseen  from  above, 
awaited  her  half-way  down  the  main  forward  stairs. 
When  the  maid,  however,  leaned  to  her  and  spoke, 
her  glance  went  aloft  and  her  gestures  were  a  joy  even 
to  the  strangers  who  crowded  the  boat's  side.  Now 
while  the  stage  was  run  out  and  her  husband  met  her 
and  gave  her  his  arm,  and  white-jackets  seized  her 
effects,  the  man-servant  answered  a  question  softly 
called  over  to  him  by  Ramsey,  and  the  group  over 
head  caught  his  words: 

478 


EUTHANASIA 

"De  twins  couldn'  come.  No,  miss,  'caze  dey  ain't 
in  town.  No,  miss,  dey  bofe  went  oveh  to  de  Lou'si- 
ana  place  'istiddy.  .  .  .  Yass,  miss,  on  a  bah  hunt  in 
Bayou  Crocodile  swamp." 

Mrs.  Gilmore  stole  a  glance  at  Hugh,  but  the  only 
sign  that  he  had  heard  was  a  light  nod  to  the  mate 
below,  and  a  like  one  up  to  Watson. 

"Take  in  that  stage,"  called  the  mate  to  his  men. 
The  engine  bells  jingled,  the  Enchantress  backed  a 
moment  on  one  wheel,  then  went  forward  on  both, 
fluttered  her  skirts  of  leaping  foam,  made  a  wide,  up 
stream  turn,  headed  down  the  river,  and  swept  away 
for  Natchez  Island  just  below  and  for  New  Orleans 
distant  a  full  night's  run.  She  had  hardly  put  the 
island  on  her  larboard  bow  when  merrily  up  and  down 
the  cabin  and  out  on  the  boiler  deck  and  thence  down 
the  passsenger  guards  rang  the  supper  bell. 

"Bayou  Crocodile,"  said  a  Carthaginian  descending 
the  wheel-house  stair,  "that's  where  one  of  the  sons- 
in-law  has  his  plantation,  isn't  it?" 

"On  the  Black  River,  yes,"  said  he  of  Milliken's 
Bend. 

"Near  where  it  comes  into  Red  River,"  added 
Vicksburg. 

Once  more  Hugh  and  Ramsey  sat  alone  side  by 
side  under  a  glorious  night  sky,  at  that  view-point 
so  rarely  chosen  by  others  but  so  favored  by  her — the 
front  of  the  texas  roof.  Down  forward  at  the  cap 
tain's  station  sat  the  two  commodores  and  up  in  the 
pilot-house  were  the  two  pilots,  the  Gilmores,  "Cali- 

479 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

fornia,"  Madame  Hayle,  and  they  of  Vicksburg  and 
the  Bends. 

In  the  moral  atmosphere  of  this  uppermost  group 
there  was  a  new  and  happy  clearness  easily  attribu 
table  to  a  single  potent  cause — Madame  Hayle.  Her 
advent  and  the  moon's  rising  had  come  in  the  same 
hour  and  with  very  similar  effect.  Every  one  was 
aware  for  himself,  though  nobody  could  say  when  any 
one  else  had  been  told,  that  while  Gideon's  decision 
was  still  withheld,  madame,  in  her  own  sweet,  absolute 
way,  had  said  it  would  be  forthcoming  before  the  boat 
touched  the  Canal  Street  wharf,  and  that  in  the  in 
terval,  whether  Hugh  and  Ramsey  were  never  to  sit 
side  by  side  again,  or  were  to  go  side  by  side  the  rest 
of  their  days,  they  should  have  this  hour  this  way 
and  were  free  to  lengthen  it  out  till  night  was  gone, 
if  they  wished. 

It  was  not  late  in  any  modern  sense,  yet  on  the 
passenger  deck  no  one  was  up  but  the  barkeeper,  two 
or  three  quartets  at  cards,  the  second  clerk  at  work 
on  his  freight  list,  a  white-jacket  or  two  on  watch, 
and  Joy  and  Phyllis.  Thus  assured  of  seclusion  the 
lovers  communed  without  haste.  There  had  been 
hurried  questions  but  Hugh  had  answered  them  and 
Ramsey  was  now  passive,  partly  in  the  bliss  of  being 
at  his  side  as  she  had  never  been  before  and  partly  in 
a  despair  growing  out  of  his  confessed  purpose  to  leave 
the  Enchantress  at  Red  River  Landing.  The  grand 
father  had  already  assumed  Hugh's  place  and  cares 
aboard,  and  it  was  Hugh's  design  to  make  his  way,  by 

480 


EUTHANASIA 

boat  or  horse,  up  to  and  along  Black  River  in  search 
of  the  twins. 

To  allay  this  distress  Hugh's  soft  deep  voice  said: 

"Suppose  you  were  a  soldier's  wife.  This  is  little 
to  that.  This  is  but  once  for  all." 

"Yes,"  murmured  Ramsey,  "but  I'd  have  one  ad 
vantage." 

"That  you'd  be  his  wife?" 

"Yes,"  whispered  Ramsey,  who  could  not  venture 
the  name  itself,  for  the  pure  rapture  of  it. 

"Why,  you're  going  to  be  mine.  As  the  song  says: 
'I  will  come  again,  my  love,  though  a'  the  seas 
gang  dry.' ' 

"  Hugh,  didn't  you  once  say  I  didn't  know  what 
fear  was?" 

"I  certainly  thought  it." 

"Well,  now  I  do  know." 

He  made  no  reply  and  she  sat  thinking  of  his  errand. 
If  he  should  find  her  brothers  he  would  meet  them  in 
the  deepest  wilderness.  Only  slaves,  who  could  not 
testify  against  masters,  would  be  with  them,  their 
loaded  guns  would  be  in  their  hands,  and  their  blood 
would  be  heated  with —  She  resorted  again  to  ques 
tions  in  her  odd  cross-examining  way. 

"You  say  you  think  there's  going  to  be  a  war?" 

"I  fear  so." 

"Humph!  fear.    If  there  should  be  will  you  fight?" 

"Certainly." 

"Humph!  certainly.  I  should  think — you'd  hate 
to  fight." 

481 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"I'd  fight  all  the  more  furiously  on  that  ac 
count." 

"Humph!  ...  On  which  side?" 

"Ramsey,  I  don't  know.  I  don't  know  till  the  time 
comes." 

"Then  how  do  you  know  you  won't  fight  my  broth 
ers — now?  " 

"I  shan't  be  armed." 

"But  if  in  an  outburst  you  should  snatch  up  some 
weapon?" 

"I  don't  burst  out.     I  don't  snatch  up." 

"Humph!    Wish  I  didn't." 

They  were  rounding  Point  Breeze.  The  long  reach 
from  Fort  Adams  down  to  Red  River  Landing  lay 
before  them.  "Hugh,  did  you  ever  have  a  presen 
timent?  Of  course  not.  I  never  did  before.  I  got  it 
a-comin'  round  Hard  Times  Bend." 

"Then  I  can  cure  it — with  a  new  verse,  one  our 
poet  has  made  and  given  me.  It  shall  be  our  part 
ing  word.  Shall  I?" 

"Oh,  yes,  but  not  for  parting!  I  don't  want  any 
parting!" 

He  spoke  it  softly: 

"I  dreamp  I  heard  a  joyful  soun* — 

O  hahd  times! — 
Love  once  mo'  foun'  de  last  turn  roun* 

Hahd  Times  Ben'. 
Los'  an'  foun',  broke  an'  boun', 
Love  foun'  an'  boun'  de  last  turn  roun' 

Hahd  Times  Ben'." 

482 


EUTHANASIA 

Ramsey  barely  waited  for  its  end.  "What's  that 
light  waving  far  away  down  yonder?  It  began  as  you 
did." 

"It  didn't  know  it.  It's  only  some  one  on  the  Red 
River  wharf -boat,  wanting  us  to  land,"  said  Hugh, 
and  before  his  last  word  came  the  Enchantress  roared 
her  assent  to  the  signal.  But  Ramsey  had  spoken 
again : 

"What's  this,  right  here?"  She  sprang  up  and 
gazed  out  on  the  water  a  scant  mile  ahead.  There, 
directly  in  the  steamer's  course  and  just  out  of  the 
moon's  track,  another  faint  light  waved,  so  close  to 
the  water  as  to  be  reflected  in  it.  The  moment  the 
whistle  broke  out  it  ceased  to  swing  and  when  the 
whistle  ceased  the  engines  had  stopped. 

"What  is  it?"  she  asked  again  as  Hugh  stood  by  her 
looking  out  ahead  with  eyes  better  trained  to  night 
use  than  hers. 

"A  skiff,"  he  replied,  "with  some  message." 

She  could  see  only  that  Watson  had  put  the  light  on 
their  starboard  bow.  It  seemed  to  drift  toward  them 
but  she  knew  that  the  movement  was  the  steamer's, 
and  now  the  light  was  so  close  as  to  show  the  negro 
who  held  it.  He  stood  poised  to  throw  aboard  a  billet 
of  wood  with  a  note  attached.  And  now  he  cast  it. 
The  lower  guards  were  out  of  Ramsey's  line  of  sight 
but  a  cry  of  disappointment  told  her  the  stick  had 
fallen  short  and  would  be  lost  under  the  great  wheel, 
which  at  that  moment,  with  its  fellow,  "went  ahead." 
But  as  the  Enchantress  passed  the  skiff  its  occupant 

483 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

called  out  a  hurried  statement  to  the  mate,  on  the 
forecastle,  and  as  the  skiff  and  its  light  swept  astern 
the  mate  repeated  the  word  to  the  commodores. 

"Man  at  Red  River  Landing  accidentally  shot. 
Must  be  got  to  the  city  quick  or  he  can't  live." 

The  commodores,  and  then  the  lovers,  resumed  their 
seats. 

"Poor  man,"  murmured  Ramsey,  "poor  man!  he's 
got  his  trouble  without  going  in  chase  of  it." 

"If  he'd  gone  in  chase  of  it,"  rejoined  Hugh,  "he 
might  never  have  met  it." 

The  Enchantress  swung  more  directly  toward  the 
dim  lights  of  the  wharf-boat  and  at  top  speed  ruffled 
through  a  freshening  air  with  the  goal  but  a  few  miles 
away.  Yet  the  lovers  sat  silent.  Once  parted  they 
would  think  of  many  a  word  they  should  have  spoken 
while  they  could,  but  now  none  seemed  large  enough 
to  break  such  silence  with.  To  be  silent  and  best 
content  with  silence  was  one  of  the  most  special  and 
blissful  of  lovers'  rights. 

Presently  a  glow  rose  from  the  forecastle,  reddening 
the  white  jack-staff  up  to  its  black  night-hawk.  The 
torch  baskets  were  being  lighted.  Hugh  stirred  to 
go  but  Ramsey  laid  her  touch  on  his  wrist  and  he 
stayed. 

She  spoke.  "Mustn't  you  wait  near  your  grand 
father  till  you  see  who  it  is  that's  coming  aboard?" 

"I  can.     I  may  as  well." 

The  Enchantress,  in  mid-river,  began  to  "round  to" 
in  order  to  land  bow  up-stream.  When  she  came 

484 


EUTHANASIA 

round,  the  half  dozen  men  on  the  wharf-boat  were 
close  at  hand  in  the  glare  of  her  torches,  eye  to  eye 
with  those  on  the  forecastle,  but  prevented  by  the 
light  itself  from  seeing  those  on  the  upper  decks. 

Ramsey  sprang  to  her  feet  with  lips  apart  to  cry  out 
to  her  mother  up  behind  her,  to  Gideon  down  before, 
to  Hugh  at  her  side,  but  all  these  saw  and  knew.  A 
face  in  the  centre  of  the  torchlight  and  of  the  wharf- 
boat  group  was  Julian's  bearing  the  mute  intelligence 
that  the  writhing  man  on  a  rude  stretcher  borne  by 
two  negroes  was  his  brother.  The  lovers  parted  with 
out  a  word,  but  in  a  moment  were  near  each  other 
again  as  Hugh  joined  the  commodores  while  Ramsey 
and  her  mother  crouched  at  the  roof's  forward  rail  to 
see  the  wounded  man  brought  across  the  stage. 

"In  my  room!"  pleaded  madame  to  both  Courte- 
neys  at  once,  and  the  elder  assented  as  Hugh  hur 
ried  below  with  the  three  Hayles  following. 

It  was  heart-rending  work  getting  the  sufferer  into 
the  berth  while  he  poured  out  moanings  of  agony  min 
gled  with  frantic  accusations  of  his  bearers,  railings 
against  God  and  all  his  laws,  and  unspoken  recog 
nitions  of  mother  and  sister.  Ramsey,  seeing  his  eye 
fall  on  Phyllis  and  remain  there  staring,  and  knowing 
from  old  Joy  that  he  had  grown  enough  like  his  uncle 
Dan  to  have  been  his  twin,  suffered  for  her  as  well  as 
him. 

"Who  are  you?"  he  cried,  still  staring.  "Where 
ami?" 

The  maid  did  not  reply,  but  her  unfaltering  gaze 
485 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

met  his  as  if  it  neither  could  nor  would  do  otherwise. 
Ramsey  intuitively  followed  the  play  of  her  mind. 
To  look  again  on  Gideon  Hayle  had  already  recalled 
emotions  she  had  striven  for  half  a  lifetime  to  put 
away,  and  now  they  kept  her  eyes  set  on  this  tor 
tured  yet  unrelenting  advocate  of  all  the  wrongs  from 
which  those  emotions  sprang. 

He  looked  to  his  mother.  "Great  God!  mother, 
is  this  the  new  Courteney  boat?  Well,  if  this  isn't 
hell's  finishing  touch!  Jule!  Where's  Jule?  Go,  get 
meJule!" 

Phyllis  turned  to  go  but — "No,"  he  cried  with  a 
light  of  sudden  purpose  in  his  face,  "you  stay.  Ev 
erybody  else  go!  And  send  me  Jule.  Don't  send  a 
doctor,  I'm  the  doctor  myself.  Get  out,  all  of  you, 
go!  This  isn't  my  death-bed.  God!  I  wish  it  was, 
for  I'm  a  cripple  for  life  and  will  never  walk  again — 
leave!  go!  and  send  me  Jule!" 

Guided  by  a  cabin-boy  to  Hugh's  room,  Ramsey 
found  Julian  confronting  his  father,  "  California/'  and 
the  Gilmores.  Hugh  had  led  them  there  for  privacy 
and  stood  close  at  one  side.  Julian  seemed  to  be 
suffering  a  shock  scarcely  less  than  his  brother's 
though  it  made  a  wholly  different  outward  show.  His 
face  wore  an  appalled  look,  his  voice  was  below  its 
accustomed  pitch,  and  his  words,  words  which  could 
not  have  been  premeditated,  seemed  studiously  fit 
and  precise. 

"Fortunately,"  he  had  been  saying  before  Ramsey 
appeared,  "he  never" — meaning  his  brother — "goes 

486 


EUTHANASIA 

into  the  country  without  his  drugs  and  instruments — 
we  have  them  with  us  yet — and  he  could  tell  me  what 
to  do  and  I  did  it,  or  he  would  have  died  right  there 
in  the  swamp/' 

"But  you  don't  say  how  the  accursed  thing  hap 
pened/'  said  Gideon  as  Ramsey  entered  hardly  aware 
that  she  was  pausing  at  Hugh's  side.  The  brother 
turned  and  stared  on  the  two. 

"Come,"  said  Gideon,  "never  mind  that.  How  did 
it  happen?" 

"It  happened,  sir,  through  my  own  incredible  care 
lessness  and  by  my  own  hand.  Don't  say  a  word!  I 
would  to  God  I  had  been  the  victim  and  had  fallen 
dead  in  my  tracks.  If  I  had  killed  him  I  would  have 
put  the  other  load  into  my  brain." 

"Oh,  if!"  solemnly  sneered  the  incredulous  father. 
While  he  did  so  Julian,  the  profoundness  of  whose 
mental  torture  his  father  poorly  saw,  received  from 
Ramsey  his  brother's  summons  and  with  her  was 
turning  away.  He  stopped  and  flashed  back  a  look 
of  agonized  resentment,  but  Gideon  met  it  with  a 
beetling  frown  and  neither  gaze  fell  until  Ramsey 
stepped  between,  facing  the  giant,  and  she  and  the 
brother  backed  away  and  were  gone. 

They  sought  the  passenger  deck.  Between  anguish 
for  Lucian's  calamity  and  anguish  for  his  father's  con 
tumely  there  poured  from  Julian's  lips  in  hectoring 
questions  to  Ramsey  a  further  anguish  of  chagrin  for 
the  seeming  triumph  of  Hugh's  love.  Two  or  three 
challenges  she  parried  and  while  in  a  single  utterance 

487 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

he  launched  out  as  many  more  they  encountered  at  a 
wheel-house  stair  their  mother  and  old  Joy.  He  cut 
short  all  inquiries  with  a  proffer  to  return  to  them 
and  Ramsey  post-haste  and  give  a  full  account  of  the 
disaster. 

Meantime  down  in  the  sick-room  Lucian  said  to 
Phyllis,  when  they  had  been  a  few  minutes  alone: 

"And  now  give  me  my  medicine." 

"Yes,  sir;   where  is  it?" 

"Oh,  damnation!  in  my  saddle-bags  on  the  wash- 
stand.  What  are  you  trying  to  talk  white  folks'  En 
glish  for?"  He  hardly  spoke  three  words  without  a 
moan  or  an  oath.  "Do  you  find  a  measuring-glass?" 

She  found  it. 

"See  a  small  bottle — dark  liquid — about  twice  the 
size — of  the  glass?" 

"Yass,  suh,  but  it's  full,  suh." 

"Hell!  what  of  that?  Fill  the  glass  and  give  it  to 
me!" 

She  filled  it  but  paused.  "It — it  looks  like  la'da- 
num." 

"Oh,  damn  you,  so  did  your  great-grandmother. 
It's  not  laudanum.  Did  you  ever  smell  vinegar  in 
laudanum,  or  nutmeg?  Give  it  here!  God  A'mighty, 
if  I  could  reach  you  with  my  fist —  Give  me  that 
glass!" 

"Misteh  Lucian,  if  this  is  la'danum — 

"You  hell-fired  idiot,  it  isn't!  And  if  it  was,  such 
an  overdose  would  only  vomit  me.  Don't  you  know 
that?" 


EUTHANASIA 

"Yass,  suh,  I  know  it  would."  But  still  she  held 
back. 

"Then  give  it  here!" 

Julian  came  in  with  alarm  added  to  his  other  dis 
tresses. 

"Oh,  Luce!  do  you  want  to  start  that  bleeding 
again?" 

"I'd  just  as  lief  as  not!  Make  that  wench  give  me 
that  glass  or  mash  her  head!  She  knows  if  it  was 
laudanum  it  would  merely  puke  me.  Damn  it,  it's 
a  simple  euthanasia."  The  crafty  sufferer  felt  assured 
his  brother  would  neither  know  nor  ask  the  smooth 
word's  meaning. 

Julian  turned  savagely  upon  the  maid.  Heated 
with  drink,  enraged  at  himself,  his  father,  Hugh  Courte- 
ney,  his  sister,  and  his  mother,  he  was  in  no  mood 
to  humor  the  contumacy  of  any  freed  slave  and  least 
of  all  this  one.  "Give  it  to  him  this  instant,"  he 
cried.  "Do  you  want  to  kill  him?" 

"No,  Misteh  Julian,  that's  exactly— 

He  drew  and  levelled  his  revolver  and  then  mo 
tioned  with  it  a  repetition  of  his  command. 

With  a  woe  of  protest  in  her  eyes,  Phyllis  obeyed. 
Lucian  swallowed  the  draught  and  sank  to  his  pillow. 
Julian  watched  Phyllis  slowly  set  down  the  glass  and 
bottle. 

"What  did  you  say  that  stuff  is?"  he  asked  his 
brother,  with  an  assumed  lightness. 

"Oh,  a  palliative  for  these  infernal  pains.  Have 
you  told  the  family  what  happened?  Go  do  it."  The 

489 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

speaker's  tone  grew  lofty.     "I  want  them  to  know  it 
was  all  my  fault!    This  girl  can  stay  with  me  till  you 
come  back,  and  you  can  take  your  time.      I  shan't 
need  you  for  an  hour.     Go,  Jule,  my  brother.     Oh 
don't  harry  me  with  idle  questions." 

As  Julian  presently  shut  himself  out  Phyllis,  her 
fears  for  the  patient  disarmed  by  his  transient  excite 
ment  where  she  had  looked  for  heaviness,  laid  her 
hand  on  a  chair;  but  he  stopped  her.  "You  white 
nigger!  would  you  presume  to  sit  down  in  my  pres 
ence?  If  you  can't  stand  go  outside — and  shut  the 
door.  Oh,  go  anyhow!  Life's  more  tolerable  with 
you  out  of  sight.  If  I  want  you  I'll  call." 

The  room  was  close  abaft  the  wheel,  where  a  widen 
ing  of  the  guards  made  an  inviting  space,  and  out 
there  Phyllis  drew  a  chair  up  beside  the  door.  A  white- 
jacket  came  from  the  cabin  in  behalf  of  passengers  in 
neighboring  staterooms  to  ask  what  the  commotion 
meant,  and  as  she  began  to  explain  it  away  Ramsey 
and  old  Joy  came  down  a  near-by  stair  to  watch  with 
her  or  in  her  stead  and  to  them  she  amplified  her 
explanation.  Ramsey  listened  at  the  door.  The  pa 
tient  seemed  to  be  asleep,  so  audible  was  his  breath 
ing. 

She  had  a  sudden  thought:  a  doctor's  saddle-bags 
always  contain  laudanum.  Had  Phyllis  seen  any — • 
in  another  bottle,  untouched?  That  would  confirm 
the  patient's  denial.  She  beckoned  and  asked.  Yes, 
Phyllis  had  seen  it,  labelled. 

"And  besides,"  Ramsey  thought  on,  "neither  twin 

490 


EUTHANASIA 

has  ever  spoken  falsely  to  the  other."  Why,  then, 
sleep  was  good! 

Even  in  outer  sights  and  sounds  there  was  solace 
and  reassurance:  in  river  and  shore  forever  passing 
majestically  up-stream  through  floods  of  moonlight; 
in  the  rhythmic  flutter  and  rush  of  wheels  and  foam, 
and  in  the  keen  quiver  of  the  Enchantress  flying  to 
New  Orleans  on  the  swiftest  wings  steam  could  give. 
Ramsey  sent  Phyllis  up  to  bid  Julian  be  at  ease,  and 
the  maid,  returning,  announced  that  both  the  com 
modores  had  gone  to  rest  but  that  madame  was 
anxious  to  come  back  to  the  invalid  the  moment  he 
would  permit.  She  added,  unasked,  that  Captain 
Hugh  was  in  the  captain's  chair. 

The  hour  passed  and  Julian  reappeared.  The  par 
tial  relief  of  mind  which  had  come  to  all  the  others 
had  in  degree  reached  him.  It  enabled  him,  as  he  came 
down  the  wheel-house  stair,  to  reflect,  though  with  a 
shudder,  upon  that  furious  treatment  which  alone,  he 
had  somewhere  heard,  would  counteract  an  opium 
poisoning,  and  upon  Lucian's  utter  inability  to  endure 
any  part  of  such  a  treatment.  He  found  Ramsey 
hearkening  at  the  door  again,  newly  disquieted.  The 
two  servants  were  out  at  the  rail  of  the  wide  guards. 

"Ought  his  breathing,"  she  said,  "to  sound  like 
that?" 

Julian  thought  not,  but  even  a  sister's  solicitude 
offended  his  lifelong  sentiment  of  paramount  owner^ 
ship  in  his  brother.  "Stand  away,  I'll  let  you  know," 
he  replied,  passed  in,  and  closed  the  door. 

491 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

Then  all  at  once,  as  so  often  has  happened  to  so 
many  of  us,  he  saw  his  heedlessness  where  he  had 
fancied  himself  vigilant.  The  light  was  dim.  He 
knelt  close  to  the  sleeper.  One  long  stare  into  the 
pale  yet  livid  face  was  enough.  Lucian  was  dying. 
Julian  leaped  to  his  feet  to  seek  aid  but  saw  its  fu 
tility  and  fell  again  to  his  knees.  Lucian  was  dying 
of  the  "black-drop"  which  his  brother,  in  haughty 
ignorance,  by  the  hand  of  Phyllis,  had  given  him. 

Presently  Julian  found  voice,  yet,  mindful  still  of 
the  listening  Ramsey,  let  himself  only  softly  murmur: 
"Oh,  Lucian,  my  brother!  Oh,  Lucian,  my  twin 
brother!  I've  killed  you,  killed  you  twice  over,  my 
twin  brother!  God!  but  you're  right  not  to  live  a 
cripple.  And  it  was  I  who  crippled  you!  Oh,  Lucian, 
I'm  the  cripple  now!" 

Ramsey  tapped.  He  sprang  to  the  door  and  with 
out  opening  it  answered:  "Yes,  in  a  minute.  He — 
he's  all  right." 

At  the  wash-stand  he  lifted  the  phial  of  black-drop 
still  half  full.  As  quietly  as  if  the  dose  were  a  dram 
at  the  bar  he  filled  the  measuring-glass  and  drank  its 
last  drop.  Then  he  turned  to  the  door  and  barely 
opened  it. 

"He's  all  right,  Ramsey.  .  .  .  Yes.  .  .  .  Yes.  He's 
done  just  the  right  thing.  So  have  I.  Now,  go  away, 
please,  wherever  you  like,  only  don't — stay — here  just 
to  bother  us.  I'll  merely  lie  down  beside  him  with 
out—  What?  .  .  .  No,  go  away!  You'll  find  us  all 
right  in  the  morning." 

492 


LXIII 
THE  CAPTAIN'S  CHAIR 

ON  the  next  afternoon  but  one,  while  hundreds 
went  down  to  the  steamboat  landing  to  view  the  new 
Enchantress,  there  was  a  double  funeral  in  the  old 
French  cemetery,  Saint  Louis  Street,  New  Orleans. 

Returning  from  it  together,  Watson  and  his  forme/ 
"cub"  spoke  of  Gideon  Hayle. 

"He  takes  the  loss  of  them  boys  harder'n  what  I'd 
'a'  thought  he  would,"  said  the  younger  pilot. 

And  Watson  replied:  "Yes,  but  he  don't  take  it  as 
hard  as  what,  years  ago,  he  tuck  their  fust  refus'n'  to 
go  with  him  on  the  river." 

They  said  no  more  all  the  way  up  Rampart  Street 
to  Canal,  out  Canal  to  the  steamboat  landing,  and 
across  the  levee  to  the  Enchantress.  An  hour  later 
they  stood  in  her  wheel-house,  looking  down  on  the 
same  Saturday  afternoon  five  o'clock  scene  that  Wat 
son  and  Ned  had  thus  contemplated  from  the  Vota 
ress  a  hundred  months  before. 

Here  were  the  same  vast  piles  of  harvest  wealth, 
the  same  crowds  and  little  flags,  the  same  shouting 
and  tumult  only  grown  greater,  the  same  open  sky- 
though  of  October — the  same  many-pillared  cloud  of 
black  smoke,  the  same  smartly  painted  bumboats 

493 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

selling  oranges,  bananas,  pineapples,  corals,  and  sea- 
shells — many  of  the  latter  treated  with  puritanic  art, 
having,  that  is,  the  Lord's  Prayer  bitten  into  them 
with  muriatic  acid.  Here  lay  the  same  yellow  harbor 
with  many  more  fussy  little  tugs  in  it,  its  water  low 
yet  still  mast-deep,  its  yard-long  catfish  and  fathom- 
long  gars  leaping  and  wallowing  after  their  prey,  its 
white  gulls  flashing  about  the  steamers'  pantry  win 
dows.  Here  was  the  same  black  forest  of  ships  in  the 
up-stream  and  down-stream  distance  and  here,  finally, 
the  same  public  hope  and  pride  grown  wider  and  loft 
ier  in  their  last  affluence  before  entering  that  purga 
tory  of  civil  war  which  now  seems  but  a  bad  dream 
outlived. 

Steam  was  up  on  the  Enchantress,  and  every  now 
and  then  her  mighty  wheels  tugged  on  her  hawsers. 
In  the  crowd  gathered  on  the  wharf  to  see  her  go  were 
the  Gilmores  and  the  half  dozen  from  Vicksburg  and 
the  Bends.  Up  on  the  hurricane-deck  were  two  or 
three  small  knots  of  passengers,  chiefly  ladies,  unknown 
to  the  Gilmore  group;  but  beside  a  derrick  post,  where 
we  first  saw  Hugh  on  the  Votaress,  stood  the  three 
Hayles,  old  Joy,  and  "California" — bound  once  more 
for  the  gold-diggings.  Near  the  Hayles,  yet  nearer 
the  bell,  was  Hugh,  in  command. 

"You  don't  reckon,"  said  a  voice  in  the  throng, 
"that  that's  her  captain,  do  you?" 

"No,"  said  another,  "I  should  think  not." 

"Yes,"  said  the  very  human  Gilmore,  "that's  the 
captain." 

494 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  CHAIR 

Vicksburg  and  the  Bends  sent  up  smiles  and  faint 
wavings  to  Ramsey  and  her  mother  and  only  did  not 
call  to  them  because  they  were  in  a  great  city.  It 
made  them  very  proud  and  happy  to  see  Hugh  the 
master  of  this,  to  them,  matchless  wonder  of  utility 
and  beauty,  and  they  could  not  help  saying  things  to 
each  other  with  voice  enough  to  let  strangers  around 
them  know  he  was  their  personal  friend.  While  they 
did  so  who  should  alight  from  a  cab  and  glance  up  to 
Hugh  but  his  grandfather.  Hugh  answered  with  a 
gesture  toward  the  Gilmores,  to  whom  the  old  gentle 
man  promptly  turned.  There  had  arisen  among  the 
boats  a  good-natured  custom  of  giving  friends  a  free 
trip  eight  miles  up  the  river,  to  the  suburb  of  Carroll- 
ton.  So  a  word  from  the  commodore  was  enough; 
the  players  and  their  group  hurried  aboard  with  him 
and  as  they  touched  the  lower  deck  the  last  bell 
sounded  and  the  lines  were  cast  off. 

When  they  reached  the  hurricane-deck  they  were 
in  the  middle  of  the  stream.  They  did  not  join  the 
senior  Hayles  at  once;  Ramsey  met  them  and  with 
her  they  stood  on  the  skylight  roof  watching  the 
shores  to  see  when  they  should  stop  drifting  and  gain 
headway.  Over  on  the  "Algiers"  side  of  the  harbor 
lay  the  Paragon,  repairing  a  smashing  she  had  got  at 
the  wharf  through  the  bad  handling  of  another  boat, 
else  the  Hayles  would  hardly  have  been  going  home 
on  the  Enchantress. 

The  crew  of  the  Enchantress  stood  about  her  cap 
stan  and  their  chantey-man,  ready  to  sing  when  the 

495 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

swivel  should  peal  and  her  burgee  run  down;  but  the 
Gilmore  group  were  too  far  aft  to  see  them.  The 
player's  wife,  speaking  gravely  with  Ramsey  in  low 
tones,  remarked  with  sudden  gayety: 

"I  see  why  we're  here  behind  the  bell.  You're 
afraid  they'll  sing " 

Ramsey  made  a  pleading  gesture. 

"Why,  what  can  you  expect,"  asked  her  friend; 
"not 'Bounding  Billow'?" 

Ramsey,  laughing,  could  only  repeat  the  gesture. 
The  swivel  pealed,  down  sank  the  burgee,  a  wind  be 
gan  to  ruffle  their  brows,  and  up  rolled  the  song: 

"Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  whah  de  sea  ships  come  an'  go, 
On  de  finess  boat  dat  eveh  float,"  etc. 

It  was  still  coming  up  when  a  young  man  not  of 
the  Gilmore  group  surprised  the  actor  a  moment  aside. 

"Mr.  Gilmore,  is  that  Commodore  Hayle  over 
there?  ...  I  thought  it  must  be.  I  suppose  he's 
going  up  home  to  settle  his  two  sons'  affairs.  Mr. 
Gilmore,  they  wan't  bad,  they  were  only  wild.  Sad, 
their  having  to  be  buried  in  the  city.  But  in  this 
climate,  you  know — hmm! — yes." 

The  song  and  his  observations  crossed  back  and 
forth. 

"Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  you'd  ought  to  come  befo'  " — 
(Chorus.) 

"You  don't  remember  me,  Mr.  Gilmore,  but  I  was 
on  the  Votaress  with  you  and  your  lady  and  Madame 

496 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  CHAIR 

Hayle  and  those  twins  and  all.  I  married  the  young 
lady  I  was  keeping  company  with  then.  There  she 
is.  Don't  you  re-collect  my  lending  you  my  field- 
glass  at  the  Devil's  Elbow?" 

"Dear  me!  was  that  you  at  the  devil's  elbow!  I 
—I  hope  I  returned  them." 

"Oh,  you  did!  You  remember  the  first  clerk  of  the 
Votaress!  He's  her  captain  now.  And  Ned — you  re 
member  Ned,  the  pilot,  don't  you?  Well,  he's  on  her 
yet.  I  see  you're  lost  in  admiration  of  this  most  un 
usual  sunset.  We  almost  always  have  these  unusual 
sunsets.  This  is  a  wonderful  country." 

"Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  whah  de  sweet  cane  honey  flow'. 
(Chorus.) 

"Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  love  a-knockin'  at  de  do'." 
(Chorus.) 

Now  the  boat  was  in  the  pilot's  hands.  Hugh 
joined  Madame  Hayle  and  the"  two  commodores  at 
the  derrick  post.  The  same  shrewd  texas  tender  who 
had  once  abstracted  the  weapons  of  the  twins  from 
their  stateroom  set  a  second  chair  beside  the  cap 
tain's.  Hugh  offered  the  two  seats  to  the  commo 
dores,  but  both  declined.  They  of  Vicksburg  and  the 
Bends  watched  the  gorgeous  October  sunset  beyond 
the  low,  flat  orangeries  on  their  right.  "California" 
was  with  them  and  told  them  of  the  sunsets  on  the 
great  plains.  Gilmore  generously  kept  the  one-time 
lender  of  the  field-glass  and  the  lender's  mouse  of  a 
wife  beguiled  with  anecdotes  while  Mrs.  Gilmore 

497 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

talked  on  with  Ramsey,  making  fond  and  welcome  in* 
cursions  into  her  confidence. 

"Isn't  it  ridiculous,"  murmured  Ramsey,  "that  he 
seems  condemned  to  do  everything  in  the  tamest 
possible  way?  Not  that  he  cares;  he  seems  almost 
to  like  it  so.  It's  so  right  now.  He  can't  proclaim 
anything.  And — you  see  why,  don't  you? — neither 
can  I." 

"Ramsey,  you  needn't.  Only  do  one  thing  for  us, 
Gilmore  and  me,  and  we'll  know.  When  we've  landed 
and  the  boat  starts  away  again  and  he —  She  fin 
ished  in  a  voice  too  small  for  type. 

At  Six  Mile  Point  the  actor  escaped  his  bonds  and 
for  a  moment  got  Hugh  into  his  sole  possession. 

"Certainly,  under  these  conditions,"  he  assented, 
"you  can't  assert  anything — of  that  particular  sort. 
But  see  here:  You  can  tell  me,  just  for  us  two  Gil- 
mores  exclusively,  what  your  next  boat  will  be  named. 
Can't  you?" 

"Yes,"  said  Hugh,  "she'll  be  the—"  He  let  Gil- 
more  speak  the  name  interrogatively  and  merely 
nodded,  smiling. 

The  Enchantress  was  within  five  minutes'  run  of 
Carrollton  when  Watson  dropped  a  quiet  word  to 
the  roof,  where  both  the  Courteneys  and  Gideon  were 
looking  up-stream  at  a  downward-bound  steamer 
which  had  rounded  to  and  landed  under  Nine-Mile 
Point. 

"What  is  she?"  asked  Gilmore  of  Watson  for  his 
group. 

498 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  CHAIR 

"A  Hayle  boat,  the  Troubadour"  said  the  pilot; 
"probably  putting  off  some  sugar-house  machinery." 

The  Enchantress  neared  the  huge  Carrollton  levee. 
"Good-by."  "Good-by."  "Good-by."  "Good-by." 
Down  they  hurried,  the  old  commodore,  the  players, 
the  extraneous  pair,  and  the  six  from  Vicksburg  and 
the  Bends,  followed  to  the  stage  plank  by  "Cali 
fornia,"  and  waved  to  from  the  after  guards  by  Joy 
and  Phyllis. 

"Good-by."  "Good-by!"  The  beautiful  craft 
backed  away  and  turned  for  Nine-Mile  Point.  And 
here  came  the  Troubadour,  with  whistles  trumpeting 
a  troubadour's  salute  to  the  new  queen  of  the  river. 
The  Hayle  boat's  people  had  espied  their  own  com 
modore  and  the  black  mass  on  their  forecastle  were 
singing  "Gideon's  Band." 

With  whistles  above  and  song  below  the  Enchantress 
replied.  The  whistles  ceased;  the  song  was  "  'Lindy": 

"Come,  smilin'  'Lindy  Lowe,  to  meet  to  paht  no  mo', 
On  de  finess  boat  dat  eveh  float' 

In  de  O — hi — o, 
De  Mas-sis-sip-pi  aw  de  O — hi — o." 

Back  at  Carrollton  on  the  crown  of  the  levee,  stand 
ing  apart  from  their  companions,  the  players  gazed 
after  the  Enchantress.  The  three  Hayles  had  returned 
to  their  stand  by  the  derrick  post.  Hugh  was  near 
the  two  chairs.  The  actor  softly  spoke: 

"Shall  I  tell  you  what  Hugh  told  me?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  wife. 

499 


GIDEON'S  BAND 

"Then  tell  me  what  Ramsey  told  you." 
"Nothing.    She's  going  to  tell  it  now.    Watch!" 
They  watched  together.    Ramsey  crossed  to  Hugh, 

and  seemed  to  speak  a  word  or  two,  not  more.     He 

sat  dowri  in  the  captain's  chair  and  she  took  the  one 

beside  him. 

Even  Vicksburg  and  the  Bends  understood  that. 
"He  told  me,"  murmured  the  actor,  "that  the  next 

Courteney  boat  will  be  the  Ramsey  Hayle." 


500 


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